WHITEWASH 


EL  WAI  PS  MUMFORD 


WHITEWASH 


UNIT.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


"'HE'S    AX    ENGLISHMAN,    I'LL    WAGER    A    FRANC.'" 

(See  page  20) 


WHITEWASH 

BY    ETHEL   WATTS    MUMFORD 

Auth 

o  r    of  ''Dupes,"   ''Partners," 

etc. 

1  llu  3  t  r  a  t  e  d   by 

A.     G.     LEARNED 

BOSTON 

DANA    ESTES    &    COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 

Copyright, 
BY  DANA  ESTES  &  COMPANY 


All  rights  reserved 


Published  August,  1903 

WHITEWASH 


Colonial 

Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  C.  H.  SImonds  &  Co. 
Boston,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A, 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


PACE 

'"HE'S  AN  ENGLISHMAN,  I'LL  WAGER  A  FRANC'" 

(See  page  20)       .....        Frontispiece 
"•REALLY?    I    THOUGHT    YOU    WERE    MERE    AC 
QUAINTANCES'"         71 

"  PHILIPPA  GAZED   AT   IT  IN  DELIGHT,  THEN  .  .  . 

HASTILY  HID  THE  JEWEL  IN  HER  BOSOM"       .      96 
"SUDDENLY  HIS  EYES  MET  VICTORIA'S"        .        .     115 
"  THE  GIRL  TURNED  ABRUPTLY  "     .        .        .        .     260 
"  THE  LIGHT  BURNED  BRIGHTLY  IN  THE  WOMAN'S 
ROOM      AND      SHOWED      HER      DARK      FORM 

SHARPLY "  .  282 


2131433 


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PROLOGUE 

A  HE  July  sun  blazed  unrelentingly  upon  the 
wide,  hard-baked  road  that  led,  straight  as  a 
giant  ruler,  across  the  forlorn  level  country. 
Gorse  and  stubble,  ground-pine  and  intensely 
green,  wiry  broom  covered  the  moors,  from  which 
a  quivering  radiance  of  heat  mounted  to  the 
molten  sky,  the  horizon  shook  with  it,  and  the 
distant  dome  of  the  Basilica  of  St.  Anne  of  Auray, 
with  its  golden  statue,  wavered  upward  like  a 
white  flame. 

It  was  St.  Anne's  Eve,  and  the  incoming  human 
tide  was  near  its  flood.  The  following  day  would 
bring  the  great  feast,  when  the  cure-working 
statue  would  be  carried  in  procession.  The  throng 

ii 


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pushed  forward  in  anticipation.  Here  were  an 
cient  and  dilapidated  diligences,  called  into  ser 
vice  by  the  influx  of  visitors,  carts,  drays,  car 
riages  of  all  ages  and  previous  conditions  of 
servitude,  heavy,  high  swinging  landaus,  with 
emblazoned  panels,  bringing  the  chatelaines  of 
the  neighborhood,  even  the  pumping,  banging 
automobiles  that  all  fashionable  France  had 
gone  mad  over.  Mixed  in  and  about  the  carriage 
pilgrims  came  the  rank  and  file  of  foot  farers: 
men  from  Beltz,  with  white  trousers  and  coats 
of  peacock  blue;  women  of  Lorient,  in  the  dress 
made  famous  by  the  "  chocolatiere  "  of  Dresden ; 
peasants  of  Pont-Aven  in  their  pleated  collars  and 
wide-winged  head-dresses  ;  deputations  from  Mor- 
laix,  wearing  the  fifteenth  century  "  henin  "  in 
all  its  glory;  women  of  Point  lAbbe,  broad-shoul 
dered  and  square-hipped,  marching  through  the 
heat  in  multitudinous  black  cloth  skirts  and 
yellow  embroidered  jackets.  And  in  all  alike, 
men,  women,  and  children,  the  deep,  contained 
fire  of  fanatic  faith. 

An  ancient  and  dilapidated  vehicle  of  the  period 
of  the  first  Empire,  driven  by  a  pompous  peasant 

12 


of  Auray,  in  full  regalia,  swung  from  side  to 
side  in  the  jostling  mass,  like  a  distressed  ship 
in  a  human  sea.  Reclining  on  the  threadbare 
velvet  cushions,  four  girls,  of  obviously  foreign 
extraction,  volleyed  with  assorted  cameras  on  the 
crowd  about  them.  Many  shrank  from  the  black 
boxes  in  fear  of  witchcraft,  others,  more  expe 
rienced  in  the  ways  of  strangers,  grinned  broadly 
or  became  suddenly  petrified  into  awkwardness. 
From  their  coign  of  vantage  the  cameras  con 
tinued  to  snap  with  regardless  vehemence. 

"Hold  on,  stop  the  driver!  I  want  to  take 
that  ditch  full  of  horrors,"  exclaimed  the  smallest 
of  the  quartette,  a  slim,  blonde  girl  of  eighteen 
or  twenty,  who  answered  cheerfully  to  the  nick 
name  of  "  Shorty." 

A  red-haired  young  woman  rose  from  her  seat. 

"  Oh,  gorgeous  person  on  the  box-seat,  have  the 
obligeance  to  restrain  Bucephalus." 

The  peasant  grinned,  and  obeying  her  gesture, 
which  was  the  only  thing  he  understood,  caused 
so  sudden  a  halt,  that  the  occupants  of  the  Empire 
coach  fell  violently  into  each  other's  arms.  Upon 
the  stopping  of  the  carriage,  an  immediate  con- 

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gestion  of  pedestrians  and  horses  took  place  in 
the  rear,  and  the  pilgrimage  was  profaned  by 
remarks  not  intended  for  the  ears  of  St.  Anne. 

With  true  American  independence  the  four  girls 
calmly  proceeded  to  focus  their  kodaks  at  the  line 
of  writhing  wretches,  who,  seeing  the  attention 
they  were  attracting,  dragged  themselves  nearer, 
whining  dolorously. 

"  For  goodness  sake,  move  on !  the  smell  is 
positively  fetid ! "  exclaimed  a  brown  young 
woman  of  about  thirty. 

"  Boston,  you  are  a  born  obstructionist.  Get 
out  of  my  picture,  will  you?  There  are  horrors 
enough  in  it  without  you." 

Of  the  four,  Victoria  Claudel  was,  perhaps,  the 
most  noticeable.  As  she  often  said  of  herself, 
"  she  was  made  up  of  odds  and  ends."  Her  small, 
well-shaped  head  was  set  on  a  full,  strong  throat. 
She  had  very  wide  shoulders,  a  tremendous  depth 
of  chest,  suggestive  of  great  vitality,  feet  un 
usually  small,  and  well-formed  hands,  unexpect 
edly  large.  The  face  that  shone  out  from  the 
shade  of  a  battered  campaign  hat  showed  the 
same  irregularity  —  a  short,  straight  nose,  large, 
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oblique  gray  eyes,  and  a  small,  dainty  mouth  in 
a  strong  jaw.  The  forehead  was  somewhat  high, 
and  from  it  sprung,  variously  "  cowlicked  "  and 
very  unruly,  a  great  mass  of  red-black  hair,  part  of 
which  crowning  glory  was  at  that  moment  at 
tempting  a  descent  upon  her  shoulders,  and  hung 
in  a  loop  besprinkled  with  helpless  hairpins.  She 
was  not  beautiful,  but  far  more  than  pretty.  Vital 
ity,  power,  vigorous  impatience,  and  ingrained 
humor  seemed  to  surround  her  as  an  atmosphere 
rings  its  planet. 

Victoria  put  down  her  camera  and  distributed 
a  handful  of  coppers  among  the  pilgrim  subjects. 

"  Give  me  change  for  a  franc  ?  "  the  red-haired 
Sonia  Palintzka  begged. 

"  Can't  do  it,"  Victoria  returned.  "  Change  it 
when  you  get  to  the  hotel.  I  believe  you  are  a 
reincarnation  of  Judas  —  I  never  knew  you  when 
you  weren't  trying  to  change  your  thirty  pieces 
of  silver." 

Shorty  fell  over  her  companions  in  her  haste. 
"  Oh,  look !  See  those  peasants  with  the  apple- 
green  sleeves  and  the  blue  bodices.  Heavens! 


WHITEWASH 

he's  going  to  run  them  down,  and  they  are  so 
beautiful !  " 

The  older  woman  disengaged  herself  from  the 
tangle  of  Shorty's  skirts.  "  You  are  perfectly 
insane,  child ;  do  sit  still !  You've  taken  at  least 
four  pictures  without  winding  one  off." 

The  girl  gasped,  "  Oh,  I  believe  you're  right ! 
Oh,  dear!  my  beggars  will  be  spoiled." 

"  They  seemed  pretty  far  gone  already,"  Boston 
ejaculated. 

Their  carriage  halted  for  a  moment.  A  balky 
horse  somewhere  in  the  crowd  ahead  was  deter 
minedly  holding  back  the  procession.  The  crush 
had  moved  the  Empire  chaise  alongside  a  well- 
appointed,  green-bodied  brougham,  from  whose 
window  a  slim  woman,  dressed  in  mourning,  was 
anxiously  leaning. 

"  It  must  be  horribly  dark  inside  the  lady," 
murmured  Victoria,  in  an  undertone :  "  see  how  it 
pours  out  of  her." 

Sonia  nodded,  the  description  was  so  apt.  Great 
troubled,  black  eyes  lit  up  the  woman's  haggard 
face ;  bushy  brows  almost  met  over  the  thin,  high 
bred  nose ;  hair  so  intensely  black  that  the  widow's 
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cap  surmounting  it  seemed  lighter  by  comparison ; 
even  her  skin  was  seared  as  if  by  fire,  yellow 
brown  as  it  met  the  raven  locks,  like  burned  parch 
ment.  All  this  darkness  seemed  to  emanate  from 
the  eyes  —  two  tunnels  of  Erebus  that  led  inward 
to  depths  incalculable. 

Conscious  of  scrutiny,  the  lady  raised  her  head. 
The  anxiety  of  her  face  froze  to  haughty  an 
noyance,  and  she  withdrew  from  the  window 
abruptly. 

"  Snapping  turtle!  "  Shorty  remarked. 

Victoria  smiled.  "  Did  look  that  way.  See 
the  child  with  her  —  she's  ill.  I  suppose  they  are 
bringing  her  to  St.  Anne." 

A  fair-haired  girl,  dressed  in  black  and  thin 
to  emaciation,  lay  in  the  other  corner  of  the  car 
riage.  Her  little  feet  rested  on  the  lap  of  a 
maid  who  sat  opposite,  holding  a  smelling-bottle 
in  one  hand.  As  if  in  obedience  to  a  command, 
the  servant  leaned  forward  and  sharply  drew 
down  the  green  silk  window-shade,  darting,  as 
she  did  so,  a  look  of  unconcealed  scorn  at  Sonia's 
unaffectedly  interested  face. 

"  End  of  Act  I.  —  curtain !  "  said  Victoria. 

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A  sway  and  jar  in  the  packed  roadway  an 
nounced  that  at  last  progress  was  possible.  The 
interrupted  tramp  of  the  march  again  began. 
Somewhere  in  the  front  a  chorus  of  men's  voices 
intoned  the  ancient  Breton  chant  of  St.  Anne. 
It  spread  from  rank  to  rank,  as  fire  whips  across 
a  prairie,  till  the  whole  throng  rocked  with  it  — 
an  immense  emotional  swell. 

Vic's  face  paled  a  little,  and  she  shook  her 
shoulders  as  if  to  throw  off  the  hysterical  con 
tagion  of  the  crowd. 

Sonia  looked  sympathy.  "  Grips  one  right  by 
the  throat,  doesn't  it?" 

There  was  no  more  stopping  now.  The  pro 
cession  in  its  compact  thousands  advanced  as  if 
lifted  bodily.  The  weary  straightened  themselves, 
the  sick  lifted  their  heads,  the  eyes  of  the  dying 
lit  once  more. 

"  Makes  one  understand  the  crusades,"  Shorty 
murmured,  tearfully. 

The  resistless  stream  poured  on  to  its  destina 
tion,  spreading  out  as  it  reached  the  vast  paved 
square  in  front  of  the  church,  and  the  green  acres 
before  the  Scala  Santa. 
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The  three  great  doors  of  the  Basilica,  opened 
wide,  could  hardly  accommodate  the  crowd  that 
surged  toward  them.  The  square  reeked  with 
the  smell  of  wax  candles  and  the  perfume  of  in 
cense.  Up  and  down  every  converging  street, 
and  bordering  the  square  itself,  hung  a  deep 
fringe  of  booths  —  literally  a  fringe,  for  from 
every  roof  depended  bunches  of  blessed  tapers 
of  every  size  and  quality,  from  the  simple  one- 
sou  candle,  a  foot  in  length,  to  the  great  decorated 
"  cierge,"  four  feet  high  and  as  big  around  as 
a  hand  could  grasp.  Black  and  yellow  festoons 
of  prayer-beads  swung  to  and  fro,  rattling  as  the 
heads  of  purchasers  displaced  them.  At  every 
booth  brilliantly  dressed  peasants  bargained  can- 
nily  for  medals  and  "  pocket  saints." 

The  Empire  chaise  with  its  modern  occupants 
drew  up  before  the  door  of  the  largest  inn,  facing 
directly  on  the  place.  It  was  preceded  by  the 
green-bodied  brougham,  from  which  the  maid, 
assisted  by  the  landlord,  was  lifting  the  invalid. 
The  deference  with  which  the  party  was  treated 
marked  them  as  people  of  importance,  and  Vic- 


WHITEWASH 

toria  wisely  concealed  her  impatience  till  the 
illustrious  wants  should  be  ministered  to. 

"  We  engaged  our  rooms  weeks  ago,  so  we're 
all  right,  you  know,"  she  said,  "  and  they'll  treat 
us  better  if  we  don't  fluster  them  in  handling  their 
grandees.  Suppose  we  sit  out  here  at  one  of  the 
little  tables  till  the  coast  is  clear." 

Settling  themselves,  they  eagerly  watched  the 
crowd  that  wove  its  brilliant  patterns  before  them. 

"Jolly,  isn't  it?"  Shorty  commented.  "We 
are  the  only  rank  outsiders.  Evidently  the  great 
American  tourist  hasn't  found  this  out  yet." 

"  Give  them  time  —  they  will  —  sooner  or 
later,"  Miss  Bently  announced,  sadly;  "to-mor 
row  there  will  be  more  —  that  man  over  there, 
for  instance;  he's  an  Englishman,  I'll  wager  a 
franc." 

"  Done,"  and  Victoria  held  out  her  hand.  "  No 
Englishman  would  be  so  fearfully  and  wonder 
fully  British." 

"  I  don't  see  how  we're  to  find  out,"  said 
Shorty,  wistfully. 

"  He's  going  into  the  hotel,  —  we'll  ask  the 


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chambermaid  what  room  he  has,  and  look  it  up 
on  the  register." 

"  But,"  objected  the  Russian,  "  there  won't  be 
what  you  call  a  register  here,  only  those  mis 
erable  little  slips  you  have  to  make  out  and  hand 
to  the  landlord  —  how  old  you  are  and  where 
you  were  born,  and  what  for,  and  who  filled  your 
teeth  and  where  you  think  you'll  go  to  when 
you  die,  —  and  all  sorts  of  little  personalities  that 
might  interest  the  police." 

"  That's  so,"  Shorty  nodded,  gravely.  "  Never 
mind,  though,  we'll  find  out;  there  is  always 
somebody  who  makes  it  his  business  to  know 
everybody  else's." 

"  Very  handsome  sentence.  Did  you  make  it 
all  yourself?  "  Victoria  grinned.  "  Come  in,  it's 
safe  now  to  tackle  the  hotel,  they  have  disposed 
of  the  —  the  —  what's  feminine  for  hidalgo?" 

Their  entrance  into  the  inn  in  their  turn  brought 
sorrow.  The  landlord  remembered  perfectly  the 
correspondence  with  the  young  ladies,  but  what 
was  he  to  do?  Madame  de  Vernon-Chateau- 
Lamion  had  just  arrived,  bringing  her  little 
daughter  to  the  good  St.  Anne.  She  had  re- 

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quired  the  best  rooms  —  as  he  said  before,  what 
could  he  do  ?  It  was  vexatious ;  but  the  child  was 
ill,  very  ill. 

Sonia  flushed  and  drew  herself  up.  It  was  at 
such  moments  that  she  gave  ground  for  the 
suspicion  current  in  the  artistic  circles  she  fre 
quented,  that  concealed  under  her  simple  incog 
nito  was  a  name  as  illustrious  as  the  Orloffs' 
own.  "  My  good  man,"  she  articulated,  as  she 
quenched  the  fire  of  his  eloquence  by  an  icy 
glance,  "  you  are  under  contract  to  accommodate 
us.  If  the  child  is  ill,  we  will  not  insist  on  our 
rights;  but  accommodate  us  you  must,  some 
where.  You  know  perfectly  well  the  conditions 
here  during  the  feast.  We  have  no  intention  of 
sleeping  in  the  square  with  the  peasants,  or  doing 
the  '  Stations  of  the  Cross  '  on  our  knees  all  night 
in  the  church.  Now,  what  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

The  landlord  looked  up  at  her  stately  height, 
at  the  gold  glory  of  her  hair,  at  the  violet  fire 
of  her  eyes  —  and  wilted. 

"  Madame  —  mademoiselle  must  pardon.  It  is 
unfortunate,  but  perhaps,  if  the  ladies  would  be 
graciously  lenient  —  there  were  —  rooms  —  oh, 

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not  the  kind  he  wished  he  might  provide  —  but 
rooms  —  one  in  the  wing,  where  Itwo  of  ces 
dames  could  stay  —  and  one  "  —  he  hesitated,  and 
fairly  gasped  —  "  over  the  —  the  stable." 

Sonia's  manner  was  magnificent.  As  a  queen 
might  condescend  to  accept  a  lowly  state  that 
humbler  subjects  cavilled  at,  because,  being  queen, 
she  dignified  whatever  lodging  she  deigned  to 
honor,  she  inclined  her  head.  "  Take  us  there," 
she  said,  "  and  let  Madame  Vernon-Chateau- 
Lamion  know  that  because  of  the  illness  of  her 
child  we  will  permit  her  to  occupy  our  apart 
ments." 

The  fat  little  landlord  gulped,  and  humbly  led 
the  way  to  the  dingy  hospitality  he  offered. 

"  Too  bad  we  can't  be  together,"  Shorty  wailed, 
as  she  inspected  the  cubby-hole  in  the  wing. 

Once  more  the  host,  by  this  time  reduced  to 
positive  pathos,  clamored  his  excuses. 

Sonia  silenced  him.  "  This  lady,"  indicating 
Victoria,  "  and  I  will  occupy  the  stable."  Again 
they  journeyed  through  a  labyrinth  of  passages 
to  the  much-scorned  chamber,  which  proved  to 
be  better  than  its  promise.  It  was,  at  least,  clean 

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and  roomy,  and  the  two  little  hospital  cots  looked 
comfortable  enough.  Its  simple  dormer-window 
commanded  an  uninspiring  view  of  courtyard  and 
barn,  the  slope  of  the  roof  being  not  so  great 
but  one  might  step  out  on  it  with  safety,  or,  in 
case  of  necessity,  slip  across  to  the  iron  ladder 
that  posed  as  fire-escape  for  the  part  of  the  hotel 
buildings  adjoining  the  lofts.  This  much,  the 
American  girl's  hasty  inspection  took  in  as  she 
put  down  her  simple  baggage.  Sonia,  glancing 
through  the  dim  window-glass,  commented  on 
the  ease  with  which  one  might  cross  from  one 
part  of  the  house  to  another  by  judicious  use 
of  water-pipes  and  roofs.  "It  is  to  be  hoped," 
she  concluded,  "  that  pilgrims  are  uniformly 
pious,  otherwise  a  burglar  would  have  what  you 
call  a  '  picnic  '  of  this  house." 

Victoria,  deep  in  tepid  ablutions,  sputtered 
something  about  willingly  parting  with  every 
thing  but  her  kodak  films ;  but  Sonia  persisted : 

"  These  are  servants'  quarters,  or  hostlers'.     I 

don't  think  it  is  right  to  put  such  people  in  a 

room  like  this  that  has  window  communication 

with  every  back  room  in  the  house  —  yes,  and 

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WHITEWASH 

probably  every  front  one,  too,  for  one  would  have 
only  to  cross  the  roof  and  use  the  balconies." 

"Oh,  come,  trust  the  Breton  hostlers;  they 
haven't  imagination  enough  to  think  of  anything 
so  complicated,  and  unless,  Sonia,  you  are  con 
templating  a  little  burglarious  expedition,  we're 
safe  enough." 

Victoria  wiped  her  hands  on  the  diminutive 
towel,  twisted  her  short  skirt  straight,  stuffed  in 
a  handful  of  strong  hairpins,  and  announced  her 
intention  of  going  out.  Her  companion  slowly 
left  the  window,  went  through  the  same  feminine 
recipe  for  "  straightening  up,"  and  patted  her 
friend's  shoulder  with  impulsive  irrelevance. 

"  Vic,  you  are  a  nice  girl.  I  wish  you  would 
come  to  Russia  with  me  this  winter  instead  of 
going  back  to  America." 

Her  friend  smiled.  "  Wish  I  could,  Sonia, 
but  I've  got  to  go,  there's  no  getting  out  of  it. 
It's  business,  you  see.  There  will  be  a  settling 
of  the  estate  —  Bob  comes  of  age." 

Sonia  locked  the  door  as  they  went  out  into 
the  cheerless  corridor  that  smelt  not  unpleasantly 
of  hay  and  fodder.  "  Well,  perhaps  I'll  come  to 

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WHITEWASH 

America    instead.      I've   always   wanted    to    see 
what  it  is  like." 

"  If  you  do,  Sonia,  I'll  give  you  the  best  time 
you  ever  had  in  all  your  life.  As  a  country,  well, 
I  don't  like  to  be  unpatriotic  —  you'll  be  disap 
pointed  ;  but  the  people  make  up  for  it  —  they  are 
the  whitest  in  the  world."  The  gray  eyes  looked 
unutterable  admiration  into  space. 

They  reached  the  staircase  after  much  wander 
ing,  and  descended  to  the  floor  below,  turned 
toward  the  main  entrance,  and  came  face  to  face 
with  the  plaided,  knickerbockered  young  man, 
whose  back  had  attracted  their  comment.  Vic 
toria,  because  of  her  bet,  favored  the  stranger  with 
a  long  comprehensive  stare  as  he  passed.  He  was 
undeniably  handsome,  with  fine,  regular  features, 
yellow  hair  concealed  by  a  gray  cap,  very  black 
eyes  and  eyebrows  that  contrasted  strangely  with 
his  light  mustache.  He  walked  gracefully  in 
spite  of  a  slight  limp. 

"  He  is  English,"  Sonia  asserted,  when  well 
out  of  earshot. 

Victoria  shook  her  head.     "  I  don't  think  so. 
I'm  sure  I  don't  know  why,  but  I  don't." 
26 


WHITEWASH 

The  Lorient-coifed  chambermaid  appeared  bur 
dened  with  towels  and  full  of  business.  The  girl 
confronted  her.  "  Do  you  know  who  the  young 
man  is  who  just  went  up-stairs?  He  looks  like 
some  one  I  know,  but  I  can't  be  sure." 

"  Oh,  yes  —  fifty  —  seven."  The  woman  patted 
the  towels  gently,  as  if  struggling  to  remember 
among  the  press  of  patrons.  "  Fifty-seven  — 
fifty-seven  —  came  yesterday  —  had  a  headache 
and  his  dinner  in  his  room.  I  think  he  went  out 
awhile  ago,  but  he  didn't  stay  long.  Seems  to 
be  expecting  somebody  from  the  way  he  sits 
by  the  window.  English  ?  —  of  course.  You 
should  hear  him  speak  French."  She  laughed. 
"His  name?  I  don't  know  —  oh,  yes,  his  bag 
has  '  J.  O'Farrell '  marked  on  it;  it's  a  cheap  bag," 
and  with  this  information  she  proceeded  on  her 
way. 

"  That  settles  it  —  you've  lost,"  said  Sonia. 

"  I  suppose  I  have."  Victoria's  voice  was  puz 
zled  and  unconvinced. 

As  they  emerged  into  the  street,  Shorty 
pounced  upon  them.  "  Come  quick !  There's  a 
whole  band  of  women  from  Faoue't  going  to  have 

27 


WHITEWASH 

their  sickles  blessed.  Oh,  it's  too  bad  the  light 
is  going,  I  can't  get  a  picture.  It's  fine,  it's 
wonderful !  " 

Miss  Bently's  flat  brown  figure  frantically  beck 
oned  them  to  hasten,  and  the  three  ran  forward 
to  the  stone  wall  on  which  she  stood,  commanding 
a  view  of  the  church  doors  over  the  swaying 
heads  of  the  crowd.  A  band  of  thirty  or  more 
women  were  forming  in  line,  their  black  skirts 
kilted  high,  showing  heavy  ribbed  stockings  and 
wooden  shoes.  Their  hard,  weather-worn  faces 
framed  in  the  black  triangular  shawls  that  hung 
from  under  round  black  caps,  similar  to  those 
worn  by  the  priests  of  the  Greek  Church.  In 
their  hands  they  held  new  sickles,  some  naked 
and  gleaming,  some  wrapped  in  wisps  of  wheat 
straw.  Some  argument  of  precedence  was  evi 
dently  in  progress,  which,  being  at  last  compro 
mised,  the  strange  procession  disappeared  under 
the  sculptured  arches  of  the  portico. 

"  Where  is  the  miraculous  fountain,  Shorty?  " 
Sonia  inquired,  as  the  thinning  crowd  permitted 
them  to  descend  from  their  perch. 


28 


WHITEWASH 

"  Over  here.  Follow  me;  it's  a  sight;  Boston 
and  I  have  been  prospecting." 

Elbowing  their  way  across  the  "  place,"  by  the 
medal-sellers,  and  the  mushroom  villages  of  can- 
dlemongers,  they  became  involved  in  a  temporary 
street  of  cider  tents,  wherein,  bronzed  and  be 
decked,  the  men  of  Brittany,  like  men  the  world 
over,  comforted  first  the  body  before  grappling 
with  that  illusive  and  unsatisfactory  thing  —  the 
soul.  Under  the  brown  sail  awnings  they  sat, 
on  long  oak  benches,  drinking  gravely  and  with 
out  noise,  as  is  the  fashion  of  that  strange  race, 
that  takes  all  its  pleasures,  even  dancing,  as  if 
Weltschmerz  were  the  impulse.  They  regarded 
the  foreigners  with  amiable  curiosity,  commenting 
aloud  and  unabashed  in  their  rough,  guttural  Cel 
tic,  which  is  identical  with  the  ancient  and  fast- 
disappearing  language  of  Cornwall.  To  the  right 
of  the  Scala  Santa,  the  four  came  upon  the  foun 
tain,  a  large  and  inartistic  stone  monument,  pre 
senting  to  the  public  a  huge  sign,  "  Beware  of 
pickpockets,"  and  four  granite  shells,  from  which 
the  water  flowed  through  sunken  cisterns,  resemb 
ling  the  tanks  of  a  natatorium.  Wide  stone  steps 

29 


WHITEWASH 

led  down,  and  every  available  inch  of  the  ap 
proaches  was  crowded  by  the  faithful,  old  and 
young,  high  and  low,  bonnet  and  coif  together. 
The  sightless  washed  their  eyes  in  the  healing 
waters,  diseased  skins  were  laved  in  it,  open  sores 
and  wounds  were  soothed  and  cleansed,  the  idiotic 
were  baptized,  those  sick  of  internal  troubles  lifted 
it  to  their  lips  and  drank.  The  relatives  of  those 
too  ill  to  come  filled  bottles  from  the  pools,  corked 
them,  and  preciously  carried  them  away  in  their 
arms.  The  crowd  of  worshippers  constantly  re 
newed  itself,  as  those  satisfied  rose  to  their  feet 
and  departed  with  hope  in  their  hearts  and  mi 
crobes  in  their  systems.  For  the  most  part,  the 
throng  was  earnest  and  silent.  Once  only  a 
woman  shrieked,  casting  the  bandages  from  her 
wounded  head.  Her  eyes,  burning  with  fever, 
stared  like  two  mad  stars  in  her  haggard,  drawn 
face,  as  she  struggled  with  her  stalwart  sons, 
who  at  last  led  her  away,  muttering  and  calling. 
A  momentary  hush  fell  upon  the  crowd  at  the 
fountain,  a  shade  of  doubt  crept  from  face  to 
face  as  the  sound  of  the  woman's  ravings  grew 


WHITEWASH 

fainter,  then,  with  renewed  vigor,  they  washed 
and  bottled  and  drank. 

"  And  the  miracle  is,"  Victoria  said,  slowly, 
"  that  they  won't  all  die  before  morning." 

Miss  Bently  turned  from  the  scene  a  trifle 
pale.  "  It  is  rather  sickening,  but  I  suppose  if 
you  get  a  good  new  microbe  to  fight  your  own 
bacilli,  they  have  a  chance  of  killing  each  other. 
I  don't  doubt  there  are  any  number  of  cures  from 
that  cause." 

"  I'm  coming  down  to-morrow  morning  early," 
Shorty  announced,  "  to  photograph  that.  No  one 
would  believe  us  if  we  told  about  it  —  it's  too 
unspeakably  awful." 

"  Look  at  this,  girls,"  Sonia  interrupted,  point 
ing  to  a  billboard,  on  which,  amidst  the  usual 
notice  to  "  Beware  of  pickpockets,"  were  the  an 
nouncements  of  special  indulgences  —  "  For  each 
step  of  the  Scala  Santa  on  the  knees  with  two 
'  Aves  '  and  *  a  Pater,'  one  hundred  years  of  pur 
gatory  remitted ;  for  the  entire  Scala,  ten  thou 
sand  years ;  '  Stations  of  the  Cross,'  with  '  Paters,' 
and  '  Aves,'  one  thousand  years." 

"  Haven't  you  seen  those  before?  "  Shorty  ex- 


WHITEWASH 

claimed,  with  superiority.  "  There's  a  beautiful 
framed  announcement  at  the  foot  of  the  holy 
stairs,  which  are  just  jammed  full  of  people  taking 
advantage  of  the  indulgences.  It  makes  one's 
knees  sore  to  see  them.  Heavens !  there's  a  whole 
covey  of  Englishwomen  over  there." 

"  Oh,  that  reminds  me,"  Victoria  spoke  up, 
"  I  lost  my  bet,  Boston,  my  love.  We  asked  the 
chambermaid  about  the  man  you  thought  was 
English.  It  seems  his  name  is  O'Farrell,  and  he 
speaks  very  bad  French,  so  I  suppose  that  settles 
it  —  but,"  and  she  shook  her  head,  "  somehow  it 
doesn't  go ;  maybe  he's  half-and-half,  perhaps  his 
mother  was  French  or  Italian,  or  something.  I 
flatter  myself  I'm  a  good  guesser,  and  certainly 
he  does  not  spell  '  English  '  to  me." 

"  Oh !  you're  too  sharp,"  Shorty  laughed,  as 
they  returned  to  the  hotel  entrance. 

They  had  hardly  crossed  the  threshold  when 
they  became  aware  of  the  advancing  presence  of 
the  swarthy  Madame  Vernon-Chateau-Lamion. 
With  a  well-bred  haughtiness  she  inclined  her 
dark  head,  and  addressed  herself  directly  to  Sonia, 
including  Victoria  in  the  same  glance.  Boston 
32 


WHITEWASH 

and  Shorty  she  ignored  magnificently,  turning 
by  instinct  to  her  social  equals. 

"  I  am  informed  that  I  am  indebted  to  you 
ladies  for  the  suite  I  now  occupy.  I  assure  you 
that  were  it  not  for  my  daughter's  critical  condi 
tion  I  should  at  once  seek  lodgings  elsewhere. 
As  it  is,  I  must,  most  unwillingly,  impose  upon 
your  kindness." 

"  Madame,"  returned  Victoria,  "  we  are  glad 
to  contribute  to  your  daughter's  comfort." 

"  We  trust,"  added  Sonia,  with  unexpected 
gentleness,  "  that  your  prayers  for  her  may  be 
heard." 

The  mother  crossed  herself.  "  May  God  so  will ! 
My  thanks !  "  she  added,  with  a  return  of  her 
frigid  politeness,  and  with  another  slight  bow 
she  left  them. 

"  What  a  very  aristocratic  old  blackbird,"  re 
marked  Shorty,  after  a  pause,  piqued  that  her 
blonde  prettiness  had  attracted  no  acknowledg 
ment  of  her  existence  from  the  gaunt  countess. 

"  Yes,"  Sonia  gravely  assented,  "  she  has 
blue  blood,  as  you  say." 

"  I  don't  say  anything  of  the  sort,"  Miss  Bently 

33 


WHITEWASH 

sharply  objected.  "  I  should,  from  her  appear 
ance,  suggest  Caw's  Jet  Black  Ink,  or  stove  pol 
ish." 

Though  early,  the  dining-room  was  already 
crowded,  which  necessitated  an  irritating  wait, 
but  the  four  were  at  last  settled  at  a  small  table, 
and  the  conversation  returned  to  the  countess. 

"Did  you  see  the  lace  she  wore?  Antique 
Venetian,  and  a  gem  of  a  piece!"  Victoria 
spoke  with  a  sort  of  detached  envy. 

Sonia  nodded.  "  Yes ;  but  what  made  me  want 
to  break  the  —  what  number  Commandment  is 
it,  about  envy  ?  —  was  her  pin.  Did  you  notice 
it?" 

"  Rather !  "  and  Victoria's  face  glowed  with  ap 
preciation.  "What  was  it?  I  never  saw  anything 
like  it." 

"  Nor  I,"  continued  Sonia,  "  though  I've 
seen —  '  Here  she  checked  herself,  and  added, 
lamely,  "  a  great  deal.  It  was  sixteenth  century, 
I'm  certain.  Those  pendants  were  unmistakable ; 
and  I  think  I  never  saw  such  an  emerald  —  the 
size,  the  color!  " 

"  It  had  a  big  flaw,  though,"  and  Victoria  took 
34 


WHITEWASH 

up  the  description.  "  It  was  the  marvellous  deli 
cacy  of  the  setting  and  the  design  that  struck  me. 
I  don't  believe  its  intrinsic  value  is  so  great,  even 
with  the  emerald,  but  the  art  of  it,  the  art  of  it! 
It  makes  the  modern  work  seem  absolutely  pot- 
boiling;  there  were  old  masters  in  jewelry  as 
well  as  in  paint  and  stone." 

"  I  think,"  Sonia  continued,  "  the  two  gold 
dolphins  that  surround  the  centre  stone  must 
have  been  heraldic.  I  believe  it  was  a  sort  of 
acrostic  of  a  coat-of-arms.  I've  seen  such  pieces 
in  Russia,  and  I  know  they  were  used  in  Spain." 

"  Oh,  stop  talking  like  a  pair  of  antiquaries," 
Shorty  interrupted.  "  You  don't  know  anything 
about  it,  and  you're  missing  the  circus  —  just 
look  at  the  freaks  in  this  —  salle  a  manger." 

The  great  bare  room  did,  in  fact,  present  an 
extraordinary  assortment  of  humanity.  At  the 
upper  end,  a  long  table  accommodated  fifteen  or 
twenty  priests,  whose  black  garments  made  a 
dark  spot  in  the  otherwise  bright  hall.  Next 
to  them,  a  gaily  dressed,  chattering  party  of 
women  and  men,  just  arrived  in  their  automobiles 
from  the  estates  of  Kerkonti  and  Merone.  The 

35 


WHITEWASH 

main  body  consisted  of  wealthy  Breton  peasants, 
dressed  in  all  the  gorgeousness  of  their  feast-day 
clothes,  and  obviously  uncomfortable.  Here  and 
there  the  inevitable,  fat,  greasy,  commercial  trav 
eller  serenely  bulked,  and  the  equally  fat  and  oily 
bourgeoise-women  shopkeepers  of  Lorient,  and 
the  other  adjoining  commercial  cities,  wielded 
ready  knives.  A  few  elegant  but  soberly  dressed 
families  attested  that  the  aristocracy  of  France 
is  by  no  means  devoid  of  the  faith  that  animated 
its  distant  forbears.  An  eminent  journalist  from 
Paris  took  notes  obviously  from  his  position  by 
the  fireplace,  a  well-known  painter,  accompanied 
by  his  equally  well-known  model,  sat  in  the  corner. 
A  lonesome  looking  English  boy,  who  was  "  do 
ing  "  Brittany  on  his  wheel,  yawned  by  the  win 
dow,  and  a  party  of  very  old  gentlemen,  who 
seemed  to  have  no  particular  reason  for  attending 
the  festival,  unless,  as  Victoria  suggested,  they 
hoped  for  a  Faust-like  renewal  of  youth,  com 
pleted  the  company. 

"  I  don't  see  my  Englishman,"  Miss  Bently 
observed. 

"  Evidently  his  headache  has  come  on  again, 
36 


and  he's  having1  his  supper  in  his  room.  The 
chambermaid  said  he  hadn't  been  well,"  Sonia 
explained. 

The  meal  dragged  on  indefinitely,  the  frantic 
serving-wenches  vainly  trying  to  cope  with  the 
number  of  their  charges.  Every  dish  was  cold 
or  poor.  Soup  arrived  after  the  meat,  and  vege 
tables  with  the  pudding.  But  there  was  little 
objection.  Every  one  was  either  too  devout  or 
too  interested  to  trouble  about  food  for  the  time 
being.  The  four  dissimilar  girls  were  probably  as 
much  of  an  incongruity  as  the  other  guests  or  the 
distorted  meal.  Theirs  was  one  of  those  oddly 
combined  friendships,  evolved  in  studios,  with 
which  all  dwrellers  in  France  have  become  familiar. 
At  bottom  there  is  always  the  stratum  of  common 
ambitions,  appreciation,  and  Bohemianism,  in 
spite  of  unbridgeable  divergencies  of  character 
and  traditions. 

Just  now  the  four  were  equally  delighted.  Miss 
Bently  and  Sonia  with  the  paintable  qualities  of 
the  pilgrimage;  Shorty,  with  the  photographic 
possibilities,  and  Victoria  with  the  human  passion 
of  excitement  and  faith  that  ran  riot  in  and  about 

37 


WHITEWASH 

her.  Although  her  training  had  been  in  the  field 
of  applied  art,  she  was  slowly  but  certainly  turn 
ing  toward  the  alluring  fields  of  literature,  her 
short  experience  with  newspaper  work  having 
bred  ambitions.  Now,  unconsciously,  she  groped 
for  words  into  which  to  translate  the  pictures  and 
the  emotions  of  the  hour,  and  went  about  with 
sentences  speaking  themselves  in  her  head  —  so 
good  sometimes  that  she  longed  to  jot  them  down, 
yet  never  quite  dared  because  of  a  curious  self- 
consciousness  that  made  her  hate  to  explain 
her  occupation  to  her  companions.  "  Hysteria, 
the  most  instantly  contagious  of  diseases,"  she 
caught  herself  murmuring,  as,  supper  finished, 
they  again  sought  the  square  and  its  picturesque 
gatherings.  "  I  wonder,  if  it  is  possible  for  any 
one  in  his  senses  to  remain  unmoved  by  such  an 
immense  and  intensely  human  cry  of  faith  —  the 
faith  of  the  children,  and  catered  to  as  to 
children."  What  marvellous  charm  was  in  the 
lights,  the  incense,  the  fountain  of  healing, 
the  fairy-tale  statue  discovered,  though  buried, 
because  of  the  great  radiance  that  shone  over 
the  spot!  What  mattered  it  that  antiquarians 
38 


WHITEWASH 

had  pronounced  it  a  Venus,  relic  of  the  Roman 
occupation?  Converted  into  St.  Anne  and  re- 
carved,  no  saint  in  Christendom  is  more  efficacious 
to  cure  —  "  as  bread  pills  cure  a  child,"  she  con 
cluded,  aloud.  Surprised  to  hear  her  own  voice, 
she  looked  up.  She  had  become  separated  from 
her  friends,  and  had  somehow  drifted  to  the 
church  door.  Impulsively,  she  entered  and  knelt 
for  a  moment,  the  better  to  take  in  the  mystery 
of  the  great  building,  whose  mighty  pillars  sprang 
upwards  like  giant  spouts  of  water,  and  spread 
across  the  arched  ceiling  in  a  spray  of  lacy  stone. 
The  lights  were  dim,  but  below,  by  the  great 
white  altar,  by  the  side  chapels  and  at  each  pillar 
foot,  thousands  upon  thousands  of  candles  sent 
up  a  radiance  mellowed  and  softened  in  the  im 
mensity  of  the  nave. 

The  darkness  of  confessionals  and  recessed 
chapels  was  gemmed  with  colored  lamps,  that 
vaguely  showed  the  lines  of  waiting  penitents. 
The  place  reeked  with  incense,  the  odor  of  melted 
wax  and  the  vague  heaviness  of  crowded  human 
breaths. 

The  subdued  shuffling  of  feet,  the  audible 

39 


WHITEWASH 

heart-throb  of  prayer  shook  the  air.  Victoria 
was  glad  to  be  here,  to  throw  herself  into  the  im 
mensity  of  this  sea  of  faith  —  herself  unbelieving. 
Only  by  an  effort  could  she  free  herself  from 
the  mocking  of  her  judgment,  and  she  longed, 
yearned,  to  experience  the  exaltation  of  the 
least  of  these  sun-tanned,  ignorant  tillers  of  the 
soil,  or  the  still  more  romantic  faith  of  those 
who  plough  the  sea,  and  sow  the  wave-furrows 
with  their  lives  and  hopes.  The  votive  ships 
that  hung  dimly  overhead  filled  her  with  visions 
of  the  shipwrecks  they  commemorated,  the 
hairbreadth  escapes  to  which  they  attested  by 
their  presence  in  the  sanctuary.  St.  Anne's  shrine 
glowed  in  its  concentrated  mass  of  candles,  a 
very  saint's  glory.  The  legended  statue  stood 
all  golden,  on  the  lower  table  of  the  altar,  where 
kissing  lips  might  reach  the  daintiness  of  the 
embroidered  cloth.  The  church  shook  with  the 
dim  resonance  of  chimes,  swung  far  overhead  in 
the  bell-tower.  The  throng,  she  observed,  was 
lighting  tapers  at  the  shrine,  and  she  became  aware 
that  each  of  the  pilgrims  crowding  at  her  side 
carried  a  candle  protected  by  a  folded,  funnel- 
40 


WHITEWASH 

shaped  paper,  stamped  with  the  images  of  St. 
Anne  and  the  Virgin.  As  the  lights  shone 
through  the  mellow  translucence  of  the  parch 
ment,  they  seemed  a  sudden  florescence  of  myriad 
calla  lilies  of  miraculous  radiance.  Through  the 
door  of  the  chapel,  into  the  open  starlit  night, 
the  pilgrims  poured,  the  procession  carrying  her 
along  with  it.  She  disengaged  herself  for  a  mo 
ment,  and  rather  shamefacedly  purchased  a  can 
dle,  and  begged  a  light  from  her  neighbor,  a 
tottering  old  woman,  the  white  bands  of  whose 
coif  were  hardly  less  pale  than  the  face  they 
framed. 

The  waiting  seemed  endless  in  the  crowded 
night,  filled  with  snatches  of  hymns  and  songs. 
All  was  swaying  life  and  excited  unrest  except 
the  quiet,  unmoved  stars  overhead.  Then  the 
vast  illuminated  procession  heaved  under  way. 
Once  more  the  chant  that  had  brought  the  pil 
grims  to  their  journey's  end  in  the  afternoon 
burst  forth,  both  from  the  candle-bearers  and  the 
dense  black  human  hedge  that  lined  the  route. 

Gradually  the  exaltation  of  Victoria's  mood 
faded.  In  its  place  the  artist  and  the  journalist 


WHITEWASH 

awoke.  How  could  it  be  described  ?  What  words 
could  ever  bring  the  look  of  it  before  other  eyes  ? 
What  color,  what  inspiration  of  the  brush,  could 
reproduce  one  atom  of  it?  Unconscious  of  her 
actions,  she  quenched  the  flame  of  her  taper, 
stepped  from  the  ranks  of  the  procession,  and, 
absorbed  into  the  onlooking  multitude,  watched 
with  the  interest  of  her  whole  complex  sensitive 
ness,  the  multitude  that  streamed  by  in  the  glow 
of  the  tapers. 

Wonderful!  Compelling!  the  expressions  on 
those  peasant  faces,  thrown  into  sharp  relief  by  the 
lights  that  burned  beneath  and  around  them.  The 
intense  realism  of  a  Holbein,  the  shadowed  depths 
of  Rembrandt,  the  unearthly,  grotesque  force  of 
Diirer,  and  more,  more,  even  the  rapt,  enthralled 
enthusiasm  of  Fra  Angelico,  would  be  necessary 
to  render  their  power.  And  yet,  it  was  not  to 
be  done !  Oh,  the  centuries  bridged  by  those  faces 
under  the  mediaeval  head-dresses !  This  was  no 
nineteenth  century.  That  ecstatic  woman's  head, 
in  its  halo  of  illuminated  linen  convolutions,  must 
be  fresh  risen  from  some  carven  tomb,  where  its 
marble  counterpart  lies  staring  blankly  at  the 
42 


WHITEWASH 

Gothic  arches  overhead.  These  men  and  women 
around  her  —  were  they  not  ghosts  of  those  serfs 
of  ancient  days,  unchanged  in  manner,  dress,  or 
speech  ?  It  was  all  old,  unspeakably  old,  a  mirage 
of  what  had  disappeared  over  the  horizon  of 
memory. 

The  procession  turned.  Victoria,  still  in  her 
dream,  followed  slowly.  Where  was  she  being 
led,  she  wondered  vaguely;  back  to  the  tombs 
into  which  the  ghostly  multitude  must  descend 
and  disappear  until  evoked  again  by  the  feast 
of  souls  or  the  intercession  of  St.  Anne? 

Into  the  vast  reverberating  depths  of  the  church 
they  poured  once  more,  through  its  echoing  aisles, 
past  its  blinding  altar  —  out  again  through  the 
connecting  porches  into  the  great  cloisters  of  the 
monastery.  In  the  centre  of  the  lantern-lighted 
court  a  gigantic  crucifix  lifted  its  head,  from 
wrhich,  with  horrible  realism,  a  life-size  figure 
of  Christ  leaned,  bleeding.  Choir-boys  in  red  and 
white  swung  censers  to  and  fro. 

The  high,  nasal  tenor  of  a  priest's  voice  intoned 
alone  for  a  moment;  then  the  responses  broke 
from  the  multitude  with  the  roar  of  breaking 

43 


WHITEWASH 

surf.  Again  the  tenor  of  the  priest,  again  the 
deep,  growling  bass  of  the  crowd.  The  mass  con 
tinued,  and  the  memory  of  it  remained  with 
Victoria  all  her  life.  The  smell  of  incense,  the 
thin,  penetrating  voice,  the  wave  thunder  of  the 
litanies.  A  vision  of  weird,  illuminated  faces  and 
dimly  revealed  arches,  of  a  pale,  far-off,  star- 
sprinkled  sky,  against  which  the  martyred  Christ 
silhouetted,  grimly  rigid.  The  chimes  rang  out, 
—  paused,  —  and  the  single  bourdon  throbbed  the 
hour.  Victoria,  to  her  amazement,  counted 
twelve.  Where  had  the  time  gone?  It  seemed 
hardly  an  hour  since  she  slipped  into  the  church. 
There  was  no  apparent  diminution  of  the  crowd, 
and  the  enthusiasm  continued  at  white  heat.  She 
became  suddenly  conscious  that  she  was  weary 
and  footsore.  Her  excited  nerves  relaxed  almost 
to  the  crying  point.  It  was  as  if  the  stroke  of 
midnight  had  destroyed  the  enchantment. 

Too  tired  to  take  any  further  interest  in  her 
surroundings,  her  feet  and  thoughts  turned  grate 
fully  hotelwards.  The  narrow  cot  at  her  jour 
ney's  end  suddenly  absorbed  all  her  ambitions  and 
hopes.  With  lagging  steps  she  made  her  way 
44 


WHITEWASH 

out  of  the  cloisters,  and  wearily  crossed  the  square, 
still  vaguely  filled  with  rumor  —  a  ghostly  remi 
niscence  of  the  day's  tumult.  When  she  reached 
the  hotel  office  it  was  deserted ;  every  one  was  out- 
of-doors,  apparently.  She  found  a  candle  and 
dragged  herself  up  the  long  winding  stairs  and 
through  the  dark  passages,  guided  by  instinct  and 
the  smell  of  hay,  to  the  little  corridor  connecting 
the  main  building  with  the  lofts.  Her  room  door 
gave  as  she  touched  it,  but  no  light  shone  from 
within,  and  suddenly  Sonia,  her  hair  falling  about 
her  ears,  her  eyes  wide  with  excitement,  stood 
before  her.  Only  an  instant  the  vision  lasted,  her 
candle  was  extinguished,  and  Sonia's  voice  gave 
warning  in  a  whisper : 

"  Be  quiet !  Somebody  is  coming  over  the 
roofs!" 

In  the  darkness  the  two  girls  stood  listening. 
The  noise  of  bells  in  the  square  came  vaguely 
to  them.  But  distinct,  though  muffled,  rasped  the 
sound  of  some  one  walking  cautiously  over  the 
tiles.  Softly  the  girls  crept  to  the  window,  and 
standing  well  back,  could  make  out  the  top  of 
the  fire-escape  leading  to  the  courtyard. 

45 


WHITEWASH 

The  cautious  tread  ceased,  and  was  followed 
by  a  slight  scraping  and  shuffling  as  of  some  one 
crawling.  Victoria,  with  sudden  inspiration,  re 
called  a  clothes-press  in  the  wall  near  which 
she  crouched.  She  felt  for  Sonia's  hand  in  the 
darkness,  secured  the  extinguished  candle,  cau 
tiously  opened  the  closet  door,  and  entered,  closing 
it  behind  her.  Hurriedly  she  struck  a  light,  then 
putting  down  the  candle,  as  quickly  slipped  into 
the  room  once  more. 

"  It's  ready  when  we  want  it.  I  closed  the 
door  so  he  couldn't  see  the  light  or  hear  the 
match." 

A  soft  pressure  of  Sonia's  hand  answered  her. 

The  scuffling  noise  continued,  so  slight,  that 
had  they  not  been  on  their  guard  it  must  have 
passed  unnoticed. 

Another  telegraphic  squeeze  passed  between 
them  as  the  dark  bulk  of  a  man's  body  and  head 
loomed  just  above  the  iron  ladder. 

A  pause,  in  which  the  girls  held  their  breath 
and  listened  to  the  beating  of  their  hearts.     The 
man  looked  down,  listened,  swung  his  legs  clear, 
and  placed  his  feet  on  the  fire-escape. 
46 


WHITEWASH 

"  Now !  "  cried  Sonia,  careless  of  noise,  only 
anxious  for  swiftness.  Opening  the  closet,  she 
snatched  up  the  light,  and  leaned  out  as  she  raised 
it  high  above  her  head.  "  Who's  there?  "  Her 
voice  rang  sharp  and  loud. 

The  light  fell  full  on  the  startled  face  of  the 
man.  A  handsome  face,  whose  yellow  hair  and 
contrasting  black  eyes  were  unmistakable. 

'  The  Englishman !  "  whispered  Victoria. 

For  an  instant  only,  fear  shone  in  his  eyes  — 
almost  at  once  his  face  cleared  to  a  charming 
smile. 

"  Don't  be  frightened,"  he  said,  softly,  in  very 
bad  French,  "  it  is  nothing.  My  friend  amused 
himself  by  locking  me  in  my  room  for  a  joke, 
so  I  crawled  out  on  the  balcony  and  over  the  roofs 
to  get  even  with  him.  Don't  wake  up  the  house. 
I'm  awfully  sorry  I  frightened  you."  He  nodded 
pleasantly,  and  disappeared  over  the  gutter's  edge 
into  the  darkness  below. 

They  heard  him  reach  the  courtyard;  they 
heard  his  footsteps  cross  the  court,  and  the  lift 
of  the  latch  as  he  let  himself  into  the  street  by 


47 


WHITEWASH 

the  stable  gate.     The  girls  stared  at  each  other 
in  silence;  then  Sonia  laughed. 

"  That's  a  joke  on  us,  as  you  say,  but  it  has 
frightened  sleep  from  me  for  the  rest  of  the 
night." 

Victoria  crossed  to  the  table,  took  up  one  of 
her  Russian  friend's  cigarettes,  lighted  it,  and 
began  to  walk  the  floor. 

Pausing  abruptly  before  her  companion,  she 
inquired,  sharply,  "  What  did  he  want  with  a 
camera  at  night  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure.    Did  he  have  one?  " 

"  Yes,  I  saw  it  —  a  five  by  eight,  I  should  say 
—  in  its  black  leather  case,  slung  over  his  shoul 
der." 

"  Flashlight,"  suggested  Sonia. 

Victoria  shook  her  head.  "  Aren't  the  odd 
numbers  on  this  side  of  the  hall  ?  " 

Sonia  nodded  in  bewilderment. 

"  Then  why  did  he  say  he  climbed  out  on  the 
balcony?  The  balcony  is  on  the  front,  and  the 
chambermaid  said  fifty-seven." 

"  She  may  have  made  a  mistake." 

"  He's  not  an  Englishman." 
48 


WHITEWASH 

"  He  never  said  he  was." 

"  I  know ;  but  he's  dressing  the  part  and  has 
overdone  it." 

"Well?" 

Victoria  frowned  and  threw  the  cigarette  out 
of  the  open  window  with  unnecessary  energy. 
"  Sonia,"  she  said,  gravely,  "  you  know  I  am 
going  back  to  America  in  November.  My  passage 
is  taken.  The  estate  must  be  settled,  I  can't  put 
it  off.  Now  if  I  take  this  thing  up  it  may  mean 
endless  trouble  for  me  and  legal  complications. 
Sonia,  you  have  to  do  it.  Go  down-stairs  and 
find  out  if  that  man's  story  is  true.  Arouse  some 
body  —  everybody  —  but  find  out !  Leave  me  out 
of  it  when  you  tell  your  story.  Go  on;  there 
is  no  time  to  lose.  I'll  meet  you  down-stairs  as 
if  I  had  just  come  in.  Go!  " 

Sonia  sprang  to  her  feet  and  disappeared  down 
the  hallway.  Victoria  followed  a  moment  later, 
and  joined  her  friend  in  the  deserted  office.  With 
some  difficulty  they  aroused  a  weary  chamber 
maid. 

"  The  Englishman !  why,  the  young  ladies  were 
dreaming.  The  gentleman  had  gone  away  that 

49 


WHITEWASH 

afternoon,  just  before  dinner,  saying  he  felt  so 
badly  he  thought  it  best  to  go  to  his  home." 

The  girls  caught  at  each  other  with  a  common 
impulse.  "  The  landlord  —  wake  him  up.  Where 
is  he?" 

The  chambermaid  demurred.  "  It  had  been  a 
busy  day.  They  were  all  worn  out.  Was  it 
permitted  that  people  with  nightmare  should  be 
waking  honest  folk  out  of  their  sleep  —  " 

Victoria  sprang  at  her  and  shook  her  by  the 
shoulders.  "  Wake  the  landlord,  do  you  hear  ? 
There  is  something  wrong.  It  must  be  looked 
into." 

Further  parleying  was  made  unnecessary 
by  the  appearance  of  the  host,  his  suspenders 
hanging,  his  face  swollen  with  drowsiness,  and 
an  expression  anything  but  good-humored. 

Sonia  stated  the  case  to  him  with  hurried  clear 
ness,  but  his  brain,  being  sleep-clouded  and 
French,  failed  to  take  in  its  import. 

"  The  Englishman  in  fifty-seven?    He  had  paid 
his  bill  and  gone.     Was  it  permitted  to  wake 
people  at  midnight,  name  of  a  name,  with  such 
stories  ?  " 
50 


WHITEWASH 

Victoria's  anger  mounted  with  opposition. 
"  Very  well,  then.  Mademoiselle  Palintzka  had 
given  him  warning.  If  a  crime  had  been  com 
mitted  and  the  culprit  escaped,  his  was  the  respon 
sibility.  Mademoiselle  had  done  all  she  could. 
Where  was  the  commissaire  of  police  ?  He  should 
be  notified,  then  mademoiselle  would  wash  her 
hands  of  the  whole  affair." 

At  the  mention  of  police  the  fat  little  man 
shook  his  lethargy  from  him  and  announced  him 
self  willing  to  investigate  —  but  what,  and 
where? 

"  Take  the  pass-keys  and  a  light,  and  rouse 
every  one  in  the  front  of  the  house,"  Sonia  com 
manded.  "Undoubtedly  the  man  came  from  there. 
If  the  occupants  were  out  of  the  place,  look  about 
and  see  if  anything  has  been  disturbed." 

The  garQon-de-peine  appeared  inopportunely, 
and  the  party  was  once  more  delayed  while 
voluminous  explanations  were  made  to  him. 

"  A  half-hour  at  least  since  we  got  here,  and 
nothing  done,"  Victoria  fretted,  as  at  last  the 
cortege,  composed  of  the  garQon,  chambermaid, 
and  landlord,  armed  with  lights,  pass-keys,  and 


WHITEWASH 

the  sabre  which  adorned  the  hall  wall  (a  witness 
to  the  prowess  of  the  proprietor  in  the  Franco- 
Prussian  War),  got  under  way. 

An  examination  of  the  lower  floor  was  quickly 
made.  On  the  first  landing  the  rooms  opened 
showed  only  the  confusion  of  occupancy,  and  the 
contents  were  of  such  scanty  nature  as  to  offer 
no  allurement  to  thieves.  Few  of  the  patrons 
were  in,  but  to  these  the  landlord  poured  forth 
apologies  and  explanations  that  rapidly  brought 
the  excited  inmates  in  scanty  apparel  to  swell  the 
throng  of  investigators.  Room  after  room  offered 
no  solution  of  the  mystery.  The  second  floor  was 
reached.  Here  the  procession  paused,  the  host 
addressing  himself  uncertainly  to  Sonia. 

"  These  were  the  apartments  of  the  countess. 
Should  they  rouse  her?  The  child  was  ill;  there 
was  also  the  maid.  If  any  attack  had  been  made 
on  them  they  were  sufficient  in  number  to  have 
made  some  outcry." 

"  Knock !  "  commanded  Sonia. 

A  light  tap  on  the  door  received  no  answer. 

"  They  sleep,"   murmured  the  chambermaid, 


WHITEWASH 

with  a  scornful  glance  at  the  disturbers  of  her 
own  rest 

"  Louder !  "  said  the  Russian,  shortly. 

Still  no  answer. 

"  Madame  la  Comtesse !  "  called  the  gargon-de- 
peine,  in  discreet  tones. 

"Madame!"  "Madame!"  in  various  keys 
from  the  bystanders. 

"  Try  the  maid's  door,"  the  bonne  suggested. 

A  deputation  attacked  the  two  doors  further 
down  the  hall.  No  answer. 

The  party  looked  at  each  other. 

"  They  certainly  did  not  go  out  this  evening," 
the  garQon  ventured.  "  The  little  girl  was  worse; 
they  had  dinner  in  their  rooms.  The  child  was 
in  bed  then,  for  I  brought  up  the  tray." 

"  The  keys !  "  Victoria  impatiently  demanded. 
"  You  are  losing  time.  Go  in !  " 

The  keys  were  produced  and  fitted  to  the  lock, 
but  not  until  the  whole  party  had  once  more 
invoked  the  countess  to  answer.  The  door  was 
opened  slowly,  and  they  entered,  preceded  by  the 
landlord,  vaguely  muttering  apologies. 

The  candles  lit  up  a  scene  of  the  wildest  con- 

53 


WHITEWASH 

fusion.  The  drawers  of  the  bureau  were  emptied 
upon  the  floor,  a  trunk  stood  open,  from  which 
the  tilted  trays  had  spilled  their  contents. 

On  the  bed  lay  the  countess,  breathing  heavily, 
a  handkerchief  over  her  head.  The  air  was  full 
of  the  smell  of  chloroform. 

Sonia  snatched  the  saturated  linen  from  the 
woman's  face,  while  Victoria  hurried  to  the  ad 
joining  room.  The  same  confusion  reigned,  but 
to  a  less  degree.  The  thief  had  evidently  known 
where  to  look  for  his  booty. 

The  sick  child  was  stretched  stiffly  on  her 
side,  a  little  ball  of  cotton  at  her  nostrils.  Across 
the  foot  of  the  bed  the  maid  lay  huddled,  a  gag 
in  her  mouth  and  a  cloth  securely  tied  above  it. 
Evidently  she  had  been  overpowered  before  the 
anaesthetic  had  been  applied. 

Victoria  snatched  the  cotton  from  the  child's 
face  and  untied  gag  and  bandages.  The  others 
crowded  into  the  room,  wet  towels  were  brought, 
brandy  applied,  and  windows  opened  wide.  The 
atmosphere  grew  lighter.  The  countess  stirred 
uneasily,  and  muttered. 

"  The  doctor  —  send  for  him  at  once !  "  called 
54 


WHITEWASH 

Victoria.  "  The  child  —  quick,  quick !  don't 
stand  there  staring;  don't  you  see  that  in  her 
weak  condition  this  may  be  fatal?  " 

The  garQon  hurriedly  blundered  off,  and  while 
willing  hands  ministered  to  the  other  victims, 
Victoria  worked  with  agonized  suspense  over  the 
limp  little  body.  The  heavy,  gasping  breath,  the 
persistent  coma,  and  the  pinched,  waxen  face,  were 
terrifying.  Would  the  doctor  never  come?  The 
maid  was  regaining  consciousness,  and  from  the 
other  room  the  incoherent  ramblings  of  the  count 
ess  announced  returning  life.  But  the  child 
made  no  sound,  only  that  horrible,  rasping  breath 
that  rattled  in  her  throat. 

Sonia  came  to  the  bedside  and  leaned  over.  "  I 
wish  I  knew  what  to  do,"  she  murmured,  "  but 
we've  done  all  we  can.  I  have  sent  half  a  dozen 
of  those  jabbering  idiots  to  fetch  the  police,  so 
I  suppose  that  some  time  in  the  next  week  they 
will  start  on  that  man's  track." 

"  Oh,  why  —  oh,  why  didn't  we  give  the  alarm ! 
We  had  him  —  caught  red-handed,"  Victoria 
moaned,  as  she  bathed  the  unconscious  face  on 
the  pillow.  "  The  coolness  of  the  villain,"  she 

55 


WHITEWASH 

went  on,  "  to  invent  that  plausible  excuse  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment,  for  we  must  have  frightened 
him,  but  not  out  of  his  wits,  unfortunately." 

"  If  he  gets  away  I'll  never  forgive  myself," 
Sonia  hotly  exclaimed. 

"  Then  you  never  will,  for  he  has  everything 
in  his  favor.  The  pilgrimage  —  it's  the  easiest 
thing  in  the  world  to  get  away  with  a  change  of 
clothes,  or  even  without,  for  that  matter,  in  this 
press  of  the  visitors.  To-morrow's  jam  will  be 
bigger  than  ever.  There  are  fifty  trains  a  day 
to  and  from  Auray.  Every  road  is  choked  with 
vehicles.  He'd  be  a  fool  if  he  were  caught,  and 
we  know  he  isn't  that.  Oh,  why  isn't  the  doctor 
here?" 

"  Madelaine,  Madelaine !  "  the  countess's  voice 
screamed  suddenly  from  the  next  room. 

"  Thank  Heaven !  "  Victoria  muttered,  "  the 
mother's  all  right.  Perhaps  she  knows  what  is 
best  to  be  done.  Go  and  see.  Bring  her  in  here 
as  soon  as  you  dare  —  yet,  no  —  the  shock,  right 
after  the  chloroform  —  I  don't  know  what  to  say. 
Oh,  where  is  the  doctor?  " 

As  if  in  answer  to  her  prayer  the  sound  of 
56 


WHITEWASH 

opening  doors  and  the  stir  of  voices  announced 
an  arrival. 

"  Bring  him  here,  Sonia,"  she  begged.  "  The 
child  is  so  weak,  she  needs  him  first." 

The  hotel-keeper,  talking  excitedly  and  fol 
lowed  by  a  commissaire  and  a  gendarme,  pressed 
into  the  room. 

"  This  is  the  lady,"  indicating  Sonia.  "  It  was 
she  who  gave  the  alarm  —  " 

"The  doctor  —  didn't  the  doctor  come?"  in 
terrupted  Victoria,  beside  herself  with  disap 
pointment. 

"  Not  yet,  mademoiselle,  —  presently,"  the  gen 
darme  answered,  kindly,  as  he  advanced  to  the 
bedside.  His  face  grew  graver  as  he  watched  the 
child's  labored  breathing.  "  We  must  get  on  the 
rascal's  track  at  once.  Did  you  see  him,  too?  I 
understand  you  and  the  other  lady  room  together." 

Victoria  prevaricated.  "  My  friend  recognized 
him  when  she  saw  him  going  down  the  fire-escape, 
but  I  can  give  you  a  good  description  of  him, 
for  I  noticed  him  particularly  during  the  day." 

She  rapidly  portrayed  the  stranger,  while  her 
hearer  jotted  hastily  in  a  note-book.  In  the  win- 

57 


WHITEWASH 

dow  recess  Sonia  and  the  commissaire  were  en 
gaged  in  animated  conversation.  Finally  an 
exhaustive  examination  was  made  of  the  rooms, 
and  the  balcony  by  which  the  thief  had  entered 
and  left.  Nothing  of  any  interest  was  found,  but 
the  maid,  at  last  fully  conscious,  though  laboring 
under  great  excitement,  was  able  to  give  her 
testimony. 

"  The  countess,  worn  out  by  her  journey,  had 
thrown  herself,  fully  dressed,  on  her  bed;  the 
child  was  dozing.  She.  the  witness,  was  sitting 
at  the  table  with  her  back  to  the  window,  when 
she  became  conscious  of  a  peculiar  odor.  She 
turned  her  head,  and  was  at  once  caught  from 
behind,  and  a  gag  forced  between  her  teeth.  She 
struggled,  but  was  instantly  overpowered.  A 
cloth  saturated  with  something  was  tied  over  her 
nose  and  mouth,  and  she  lost  consciousness." 

"  Had  she  seen  her  assailant?  " 

"  Not  fully.  She  had  the  impression  of  a  very 
heavy,  thick-set  man.  She  thought  he  had  a 
black  beard.  His  clothes  were  dark,  of  that  she 
was  sure.  As  he  had  attacked  her  from  behind, 
she  had  not  been  able  to  see  him  clearly;  but  of 
58 


WHITEWASH 

his  hands,  which  she  had  seen  upon  her  shoulder 
and  in  fastening  the  gag,  she  had  a  definite  recol 
lection.  They  were  coarse,  hairy,  and  callous, 
the  hands  of  a  laborer,  or,  at  least,  one  accustomed 
to  manual  work." 

"  Would  she  recognize  them  if  she  saw  them 
again?  " 

"  Certainly.    She  would  never  forget  them  - 
and  she  became  hysterical. 

The  countess  remembered  nothing,  having 
passed  from  her  natural  sleep  into  the  anaesthetic 
with  only  a  slight  struggle.  But  from  her  the 
motive  of  the  crime  was  learned.  She  had  brought 
a  large  sum  of  money  and  a  quantity  of  jewels, 
which  it  had  been  her  intention  to  present  to  the 
miraculous  statue,  if,  by  St.  Anne's  intercession, 
her  child  were  cured.  It  was  evident  the  thief 
had  some  knowledge  of  this  treasure,  the  police 
argued,  from  the  fact  that  none  of  the  more  ac 
cessible  rooms  in  the  house  had  been  disturbed. 

The  countess  gave  her  testimony  through  tears 
and  entreaties,  begging  to  be  taken  to  her  daugh 
ter.  The  arrival  of  the  doctor  interrupted  the 
examination,  and  by  his  orders  the  unfortunate 

59 


WHITEWASH 

mother  was  at  once  admitted  to  the  child's  bed 
side.  The  effects  of  the  anaesthetic  had  passed, 
but  no  recognition  lit  the  feverish  eyes.  Even 
the  mother's  voice  and  touch  failed  in  their  mis 
sion.  When  at  last  the  long  closed  lips  parted, 
shriek  after  shriek  of  blind  terror  woke  the  silence 
of  the  room.  The  doctor  intervened,  and  drugged 
the  child  to  unconsciousness  again. 

The  room  had  been  cleared  of  all  strangers, 
except  Sonia  and  Victoria,  who  remained  in 
obedience  to  the  supplication  of  the  distracted 
woman.  To  Victoria's  trembling  inquiry  the  doc 
tor  shook  his  head. 

"  It's  only  a  matter  of  time.  Meningitis  —  she 
would  have  died  anyway,  but  the  fright  and  the 
chloroform  —  it  will  not  be  long." 

"  You  must  prepare  her.  She  still  hopes  for 
a  miracle,"  said  Victoria,  glancing  at  the  kneeling 
figure  of  the  black  countess,  who,  prostrated  at 
the  foot  of  her  daughter's  bed,  repeated  prayer 
after  prayer  with  agonized  rapidity,  clasping  a 
worn  rosary  in  her  burning  hands. 

The  candles,  guttering  in  their  holders,  threw 
gigantic  deformed  shadows  on  the  bare  walls, 
60 


WHITEWASH 

lighted  up  the  tumbled  bed,  and  drew  sharp  lines 
about  the  face  of  the  dying  child.  Against  the 
whiteness  of  sheets  and  pillows,  the  intensely 
black,  shrunken  figure  of  the  bereaved  woman 
seemed  doubly  sombre. 

The  doctor,  with  his  squat  figure,  oddly  as 
sorted  garments,  and  heavy,  weary  face,  seemed 
a  creature  of  Balzac's  pen  turned  flesh  and  blood. 
Victoria  gazed  on  the  scene,  her  nerves  tingling. 

"  I  think,"  she  whispered  to  him,  "  we,  my 
friend  and  I,  would  better  go.  You  can't  let 
this  blow  strike  her  suddenly.  I'm  sure  she'd  go 
mad.  If  you  should  need  us,  send  word;  we'll 
come  at  once.  But  she  would  better  be  alone 
when  she  knows." 

The  physician  nodded,  and  Victoria,  beckon 
ing  to  Sonia,  slipped  from  the  room  into  the  hall. 
The  whole  house  seemed  dimly  astir,  but  they 
saw  no  one  as  they  made  their  way  to  their  room. 
They  did  not  undress,  but  lay  down  on  their  cots 
without  speaking,  and  gazed  on  the  sickly  dawn 
that  made  a  pale  square  of  the  window.  An  hour 
—  two  hours;  the  stir  of  waking  things  grew  in 
the  outer  air;  crowing  of  cocks,  singing  of 

61 


WHITEWASH 

birds,  vague  hallos,  the  stamping  and  champing 
of  stabled  horses.  The  chimes  rang  four,  then 
five,  then  six.  The  light  of  the  newly  risen 
sun  was  streaming  pale  yet  brilliant  on  the  old 
courtyard.  Above  the  chimney-pots  the  white 
church  spires  gleamed  against  the  hazy  blue  of 
the  July  morning.  St.  Anne's  colossal  statue, 
doubly  gilded  by  its  own  precious  leaf  and 
the  sun's  contribution,  gleamed  and  glittered. 
Through  the  opened  window,  a  shaft  of  light 
boiled  with  tiny  motes  of  gold. 

Sonia  turned  for  the  thousandth  time  on  her 
narrow  bed. 

"  Are  you  asleep,  Victoria?  "  she  murmured. 

Her  friend  shifted  her  position,  threw  a  rounded 
arm  over  her  tumbled  hair,  and  sighed.  "  No, 
I'm  not  —  are  you  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  I  can't  shake  off  the  impression.  That  poor, 
poor  woman !  " 

"  Nor  I,"  and  Sonia  half-raised  herself. 
"  Have  you  ever  read  Maeterlinck's  play,  '  The 
Intruder  '  ?  Well,  I  feel  like  the  blind  man,  who 


62 


WHITEWASH 

sees  Death  in  the  room.    I  have  an  actual  horror 
of  what  seems  a  physical  presence." 

Victoria  slipped  her  feet  to  the  bare  floor.  "  So 
have  I.  It's  all  a  nightmare,  and,  Sonia,  think 
what  a  contrast.  Yesterday  we  were  with  the 
pilgrimage;  the  songs  of  praise,  peace,  good-will 
to  men ;  faith,  hope,  charity,  lights,  music,  mys 
tery.  Then,  suddenly,  it's  sickness,  crime,  death ! 
We  came  to  a  miracle  play,  and  we  have  seen  a 
tragedy !  " 

There  was  a  silence,  during  which  the  square  of 
sunshine  crept  softly  down  the  room. 

Sonia  spoke.  "  To  have  robbed  that  woman, 
bringing  her  offerings  to  St.  Anne,  seems  worse 
than  robbing  a  church,  doesn't  it?  How  shall 
such  a  man  be  punished  ?  " 

"  He  won't  be  caught,"  Victoria  answered, 
with  conviction.  "  He  has  timed  himself  so  well. 
He's  a  man  of  resource.  If  we  hadn't  seen  him, 
he  would  have  been  perfectly  safe.  I  bet  he  car 
ried  his  stuff  away  in  that  leather  camera-case. 
A  foreigner  with  a  camera,  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world,  supposing  he  were  seen  before 
he  could  put  his  booty  in  a  place  of  safety." 

63 


WHITEWASH 

•"  Did  you  notice,"  said  Sonia,  dreamily,  "  that 
the  maid's  description  of  the  hands  didn't  fit 
at  all?" 

Her  friend  nodded.  "  Yes,  there  may  have 
been  two  men.  One  may  have  gone  down  the 
ladder  when  you  came  to  the  door  for  me ;  hardly, 
though !  you  would  have  heard  distinctly  if  there 
had  been  more  than  one.  Oh,  well,  I  suppose  the 
woman  was  too  excited  to  see  straight.  The 
beard,  of  course,  may  have  been  false;  but  they 
won't  find  him,  anyway." 

"  We  ought  to  get  up,  I  suppose.  It's  after 
eight.  Are  you  going  out  to  see  the  procession  ?  " 
The  Russian  rose  as  she  spoke,  and  proceeded 
to  make  as  dainty  a  toilet  as  the  place  permitted. 

Victoria  followed  her  example  languidly.  "  I 
suppose  we  might  as  well  see  all  there  is  to  be 
seen,  but  I  have  no  heart  for  anything.  Where 
are  the  girls  ?  I  should  have  thought  they  would 
have  come  for  us  long  ago." 

Sonia  wrapped  her  hair  in  a  shining  coil. 
"  No,  I  told  them  last  night  to  get  up  and  go  out 
when  they  pleased,  and  leave  us  to  sleep  late.  I 


64 


WHITEWASH 

have  no  patience  with  travelling  in  a  party  where 
all  feel  they  must  hang  together,  even  if  their 
tastes  are  varied.  If  the  girls  went  out  early, 
they  probably  breakfasted  in  the  tents,  and  don't 
know  anything  yet.  I  suppose  we  ought  to  eat," 
she  added,  after  a  moment. 

"  I'm  not  hungry,"  the  answer  came  promptly. 

Sonia  leaned  from  the  window  and  called  to 
a  passing  servant,  "  Send  two  dejeuners  up, 
please."  Then,  withdrawing  her  head,  she  smiled. 
'  There  are  advantages  in  living  over  the  stable ; 
it  ensures  better  service.  We  might  have  spent 
the  whole  morning  ringing  a  bell,  and  been  ig 
nored,  but  bawling  out  of  the  window  ensures 
attention." 

Breakfast  arrived  with  surprising  promptness, 
the  two  girls  having  developed  into  important 
persons  in  the  household.  At  any  other  time  the 
curiosity  and  manoeuvring  of  the  servant  would 
have  been  vastly  amusing,  now  it  was  only  an 
irritation.  They  answered  awestruck  questions 
with  abrupt  sharpness,  and  finally,  unable  to  rid 
themselves  of  her  queries,  took  refuge  in  si 
lence. 

65 


WHITEWASH 

"  It's  nearly  time  for  the  procession,"  Sonia 
observed,  glancing  at  her  watch,  as  the  reluctant 
waitress  disappeared ;  "  we  ought  to  go  early  if 
we  want  to  see  anything." 

Absently  adjusting  the  old  campaign  hat  on 
her  heavy  hair,  Victoria  picked  up  her  beloved 
camera.  "  I'm  going  to  inquire  how  they  are; 
I'll  meet  you  in  the  office." 

"  Better  finish  your  coffee,"  Sonia  called  after 
her.  But  the  firm  tread  was  already  reverberating 
far  down  the  bare  hallway.  The  Russian  pushed 
back  her  plate,  and  rose  wearily.  Truly  life  was 
a  strange  thing,  so  strange  it  dizzied  one's  brain 
with  its  questions  of  whence  and  whither.  Per 
haps  even  now  that  little  child  knew  more  than 
she,  with  all  her  varied  and  multiplied  experi 
ences.  If  there  be  any  conscious  knowledge  on 
that  mysterious  other  side!  She  drew  her  hat 
over  her  eyes  and  stepped  out.  The  passage 
was  cold  and  chill.  She  shivered  slightly,  and 
quickened  her  step.  Out  in  the  warmth  and 
sunshine  once  more,  her  thoughts  would  be  more 
cheerful,  she  reflected,  as  she  made  her  way 
through  the  labyrinthine  passages.  She  reached 
66 


WHITEWASH 

the  office,  filled  with  chattering  visitors  by  whom 
the  robbery  of  the  night  was  being  discussed 
from  every  standpoint.  The  crowd  made  way 
for  her,  and  she  reached  the  doorway,  where 
she  leaned,  waiting.  The  square  was  a  seething 
mass  of  struggling  humanity,  swaying,  vast,  ex 
pectant.  Men  in  white,  bearing  staves,  were  open 
ing  a  passage  before  the  great  main  entrance  of 
the  church.  A  full  brass  band  was  massing  its 
forces,  ready  to  herald  the  opening  of  the  doors. 
Everywhere  people  were  hurrying,  running,  call 
ing,  scrambling  for  better  positions,  or  endeavor 
ing  to  fight  their  way  through  the  press.  All 
was  color,  light,  animation,  expectation,  and  faith. 
A  soft  touch  on  her  arm  roused  her.  She  looked 
up  into  Victoria's  face,  set  hard  and  white 
as  two  heavy  tears  slipped  slowly  down  her 
cheeks. 

For  a  moment  Victoria  dared  not  trust  her 
voice,  but  swallowed  hard,  looking  straight  ahead 
with  fixed  eyes. 

"  She's  dead !  "  she  said,  simply.  "  I  have 
seen  her." 

The  band  crashed  forth  a  strain  of  triumph, 

67 


WHITEWASH 

the  cathedral  doors  swung  wide,  and  amid  the 
acclaiming  of  the  crowd,  surrounded  by  cardinals 
and  bishops  in  scarlet  and  purple,  the  statue  of 
many  miracles,  under  its  canopy  of  gold,  swung 
glittering  into  the  sunlight. 


68 


CHAPTER   I. 

_1  HE  room  was  hung  in  green  of  varying 
shades  from  palest  malachite  and  reseda  to  deep 
est  olive  and  emerald.  This  verdant  retreat  was 
the  outcome  of  an  essay  that  had  fallen  into 
Philippa  Ford's  hands  at  the  time  of  the  purchase 
and  restoration  of  the  old  Verplank  mansion  in 
New  York.  One  statement  was  to  the  effect  that 
a  love  of  green  indicated  strong  individuality, 
and  this  appealed  at  once  to  the  girl,  whose 
keenest  desire  in  life  was  to  enforce  her  person 
ality.  Being  blonde  and  lissome,  the  little  recep 
tion-room  framed  what  she  was  pleased  to  style 
her  beauty  with  an  added  elegance  and  refinement, 
at  the  same  time  proving  advantageously  unbe 
coming  to  many  of  her  callers.  Just  now  she 
looked  really  charming  as  she  leaned  among  the 
divan  cushions,  daintily  gowned  in  a  creation  of 
cream  lace  and  lavender  crepe  that  made  her 

69 


seem  some  great  pale-toned  Parma  violet  in  its 
setting  of  leaves. 

"  Do  pour  yourself  some  tea,  dear  girl,"  she 
murmured.  "  I'm  too  lazy  to  move,  or  I'd  do 
it  for  you;  besides,  I  am  searching  your  long- 
lost  countenance  for  the  ravages  of  time,  and 
I  can't  find  one  —  not  a  ravage." 

Victoria,  sitting  opposite,  raised  her  gray  eyes, 
in  which  a  gleam  of  mischief  sparkled.  "  Be  sure 
you  tell  every  one  else  that,"  she  laughed. 

Philippa  squirmed.  She  had  been  mentally 
rehearsing  a  speech  to  her  next  interested 
caller.  "  The  poor,  dear  Claudel  girl  is  terribly 
haggard.  I  fear  she  has  been  trying  to  live  on 
nothing  over  there.  You  know  how  Americans 
do."  It  was  as  if  the  "  poor  dear  "  had  suddenly 
taken  a  peep  at  her  brains.  So,  quickly  assuming 
her  sweetest  tone  of  grieving  affection,  she  ejac 
ulated,  "Oh,  Vic!  After  all  the  years  of  our 
ideal  friendship,  how  could  you  infer  such  a 
thing!" 

"  You  are  teased  as  easily  as  ever,  I  see,"  was 
all  the  answer  she  received,  as  the  returned  prod 
igal  brushed  cake  crumbs  from  her  well  fitting 
70 


" ' REALLY  ?     I    THOUGHT    YOU    WERE    MERE 
ACQUAINTANCES.'  " 


WHITEWASH 

tailor-made  gown  of  the  newest  and  most  Parisian 
fashion. 

"  It's  a  sweet  frock,"  Philippa  commented, 
dreamily,  "and  your  toque  is  very  smart;  that 
forward  tilt  suits  you.  The  hats  this  year  are 
simply  invented  to  annoy  me.  Everything  over 
the  eyes,  and  my  style  is  the  off-the-face  flaring 
thing.  Have  you  seen  many  people  since  you 
arrived  —  our  people,  I  mean  ?  " 

Her  friend  shook  her  head  slowly.  "  No,  not 
many.  Bob  and  Howard  Dame  met  me  at  the 
wharf,  and  last  night  Morton  Con  way  came  up. 
Dear  old  thing!  I  was  jolly  glad  to  see  him." 

She  was  staring  at  the  Dutch  silver  tea-caddy, 
and  did  not  see  the  quick  flush  that  mounted  to 
the  white  temples  of  her  hostess. 

"  A  charming  fellow,  and  one  to  whom  I  have 
become  greatly  attached,"  the  lady  remarked  in 
the  somewhat  stilted  language  she  affected  when 
she  remembered  to  do  so. 

Victoria's  frank  eyes  sought  her  face  at  once 
with  eagerness. 

"  Really?  I  thought  you  were  mere  acquaint 
ances.  I  forget  how  long  I  have  been  away, 


WHITEWASH 

and  how  many  friendships  have  been  made  and 
unmade.  No  wonder  you  like  him,  though.  Old 
Mort  is  the  salt  of  the  earth.  A  Don  Quixote 
of  most  admirable  intelligence.  Indeed,  I  don't 
know  another  of  whom  I  can  speak  in  such  un 
reserved  praise,  and  seeing  that  I've  known  him 
all  my  life,  —  which  amounts  to  a  quarter  of  a 
century,  —  that  is  saying  a  great  deal." 

A  green  glint  shot  from  Philippa's  half-closed 
blue  eyes  —  possibly  the  reflection  of  her  sur 
roundings,  possibly  the  evidence  of  the  where 
abouts  of  a  certain  monster,  as  she  recalled  the 
common  supposition  of  a  former  understanding 
between  these  two.  Mentally,  she  was  quickly 
calculating.  Was  Victoria  in  love  with  him? 
Had  he  ever  had  a  tenderness  for  her?  If  either 
or  both  were  the  case,  were  her  own  fascinations 
superior?  With  marvellous  accuracy  she  took 
count  of  stock,  and  concluded  that  Victoria  would 
be  a  dangerous  rival,  but  her  belief  in  her  own 
power  made  her  confident  of  ultimate  success, 
even  if  Morton  were  not  already  completely  under 
her  spell.  However,  with  instinctive  foresight 
she  decided  that  she  should  precipitate  matters 
72 


WHITEWASH 

and  bring  about  the  proposal  she  had  been  holding 
off  with  consummate  skill  for  the  past  month. 
Engagements  entailed  obligations,  but  Morton 
Conway  was  too  good  a  catch  to  lose,  and 
Philippa  felt  instinctively  that  the  only  danger 
that  menaced  her  supremacy  was  personified  be 
fore  her. 

All  this  passed  in  a  brain  flash,  with  the  swift 
ness  and  certainty  of  a  lightning-calculator,  while 
she  idly  punched  the  pillows  into  more  alluring 
curves,  and  her  society  self  supplied  a  small-talk 
item. 

"  Tilly  Genadet  is  to  be  married  next  week ;  are 
you  going  to  her  wedding?  " 

"  I  think  so,"  Miss  Claudel  replied,  as  she 
rose  to  her  feet,  and  with  various  facial  contor 
tions  proceeded  to  readjust  her  veil. 

"  You're  not  leaving  now,  are  you,  dear?  "  and 
Philippa  uncurled  herself.  "  It's  only  five  o'clock." 

"  Yes,  I'm  off.     Ethel  Tracy  sent  a  note  over 
this  morning  asking  me  to  drop  in  to  dinner  — 
just  the  family,  you  know.   Good-bye.   Come  over 
to  the  studio  any  time.     I'm  sharing  Mrs.  Testly 


73 


WHITEWASH 

Durham's  apartment,  so  you  won't  see  my  name 
on  the  board." 

"Mrs.  Testly  Durham,  the  writer?"  Philippa 
asked,  eagerly. 

"  Yes.     You  seem  surprised." 

"  Where  did  you  meet  her?  " 

"  In  Paris.  We  spent  last  winter  in  the  same 
house." 

"  I'd  like  to  know  her." 

"  Well,  call  on  me  in  the  morning,  and  you'll 
find  her  at  home.  Good-bye  again." 

Philippa  stepped  to  the  window  and  watched 
her  friend's  odd  but  not  inelegant  figure  as  it 
descended  the  broad  steps.  "  What  should  her  re 
lations  with  Victoria  be?  "  she  mused.  Evidently 
she  had  new  advantages  and  losses  to  adjust  and 
balance.  Victoria  staying  with  Mrs.  Testly  Dur 
ham,  the  famous  authoress,  was  a  different  thing 
from  Victoria  by  herself  in  some  studio.  Then 
there  was  the  Morton  question.  These  sugges 
tions  hardly  framed  themselves  as  thoughts.  She 
was  unconscious  of  her  own  calculating  mean 
ness,  tuft-hunting  and  snobbishness,  and  looked 


74 


WHITEWASH 

upon  herself  as  a  veritable  paragon  of  sincerity, 
loyalty,  and  broad-minded  independence. 

She  turned  with  a  little  sigh  back  to  the  green 
depths  of  the  divan  and  contemplated  her  reflec 
tion  in  the  tilted  mirror  opposite.  Yes,  gossip 
had  for  years  prophesied  Victoria's  engagement 
to  Morton.  There  must  be  fire  where  smoke  is 
seen.  She  must  make  sure  of  Morton  at  once. 
It  was  a  nuisance,  particularly  just  now,  when 
her  flirtation  with  Valdeck  was  so  interesting; 
but  she  could  keep  the  secret  from  every  one  but 
Victoria.  Once  in  a  position  to  make  a  confi 
dante  of  her,  she  could  be  sure  that  her  manor 
would  remain  unpoached  upon. 

Suddenly  the  question  presented  itself  defi 
nitely,  why  was  she  so  afraid  of  Victoria?  She 
had  no  real  reason :  only  merest  gossip  held  that 
the  lifelong  affection  that  existed  between  the  two 
had  ever  been,  or  ever  would  be,  anything  more 
than  intellectual  fraternity.  The  answer  came 
back  from  her  other  self :  "  Because  Victoria  has 
never  appreciated  me  at  my  true  worth."  In 
fact,  she  more  than  suspected  that  she  was  not 
looked  up  to  and  approved  of  in  this  new  quarter. 

75 


WHITEWASH 

If  Victoria  knew  of  the  impending  engagement, 
she  was  quite  capable  of  making  a  desperate  oppo 
sition.  Philippa's  heart  hardened  with  a  passing 
qualm  of  hate;  she  sat  up  suddenly  and  angrily. 
Almost  she  had  admitted  to  herself  that  she  was 
no  fit  mate  for  such  a  man,  and  that  the 
effort  that  Victoria  would  undoubtedly  make  was 
founded  on  a  quite  accurate  penetration  of  her 
real  character.  The  momentary  spasm  of  dislike 
that  had  gripped  her  returned  a  hundredfold 
stronger,  steady  and  burning.  She  must  lose 
the  excitement  of  her  present  life,  because  her 
hand  was  forced;  she  must  make  sure  of  the 
brilliant  future  her  marriage  to  Morton  Conway 
would  bring.  The  cards  of  that  trick  must  be 
played  and  the  mystery  of  her  game  dispelled ;  all 
because  a  long-absent  member  of  her  set  had  seen 
fit  to  return  too  soon. 

A  ring  at  the  door-bell  roused  her.  Hastily 
she  smoothed  her  hair,  and  assumed  a  pose  of 
absent-minded  grace. 

"  Monsieur  Valdeck,"  announced  the  butler,  in 
a  gentle  tone  of  self-effacement. 

The  sea-green  portieres  parted  and  the  visitor 
76 


WHITEWASH 

advanced,  extending  a  well-gloved  hand  in  elab 
orate  greeting. 

Philippa  smiled  with  animation  and  held  up  her 
jewelled  fingers  to  the  lingering  and  meaning 
kiss  of  the  new  arrival.  She  colored  a  little, 
which  lent  an  unexpected  ingenue  expression  to 
the  consummate  artificiality  of  her  pose.  The 
trick  of  blushing,  really  due  to  the  physical  per 
fection  and  delicacy  of  her  skin,  passed  with  all 
save  Victoria  and  a  few  rather  amusedly  cynical 
men  for  a  sympathetically  emotional  expression  of 
her  innocent  young  soul. 

A  short,  rather  troubled  silence  ensued,  which 
he  broke  abruptly,  tossing  a  square  box  into  her 
lap. 

"  See  the  wonders  of  love,  my  lady.  I  divined 
what  robe  you  would  wear,  and  I  matched  it  on 
my  way  here." 

She  thanked  him  with  her  eyes,  and  poutingly 
fumbled  with  the  string. 

"  Permit  me,"  he  murmured,  and  leaning  over 
her  till  his  auburn  hair  touched  her  cheek,  delib 
erately  cut  the  ribbon  with  his  tiny  gold-handled 


77 


WHITEWASH 

penknife.  He  drew  back  slowly,  as  if  her  near 
ness  held  him  like  a  magnet. 

With  a  pretty  gesture  of  admiration  she  drew 
from  their  wrappings  a  heavy  bunch  of  Russian 
violets  that  instantly  shed  the  perfume  of  their 
blossoms  through  the  room. 

"  And  now  it  grows  and  smells,  I  swear,  not 
of  itself,  but  thee,"  he  quoted,  smiling  directly 
at  her. 

"  That  was  when  she  sent  the  wreath  back," 
Philippa  laughed.  "Shall  I?" 

"Do  you  want  to  break  my  heart?"  he  in 
quired,  seriously. 

She  sniffed  the  bouquet,  looking  over  the 
flowers  with  eyes  now  grown  as  violet  as  the 
blossoms.  "  I  don't  know.  I  think  I  might  —  " 

"  You  ought  to  say,  '  I  know  I  have.' ' 

She  shook  her  head.     "  No,  not  yet." 

"  You  never  believe,"  he  sighed. 

"  No." 

"  Shall  I  never  get  my  passport  to  your  heart  ?  " 

She  temporized.  "  Let  me  see,  how  should  I 
make  it  out :  '  Permit  to  travel  in  the  heart  of 
Philippa  Ford,  one  Lucius  Valdeck,  native  of  Po- 
78 


WHITEWASH 

land.  Height,  five  feet,  eleven  inches.  Black 
eyes  and  eyebrows,  auburn  hair.  Weight,  about 
-  let's  see  —  a  hundred  and  seventy  —  " 

"  Much  more  —  two  hundred." 

"  Two  hundred !    Nonsense !  " 

"  My  heart  is  so  heavy." 

"  Don't  be  a  bore." 

"Am  I  a  bore?" 

She  nodded. 

"  What  must  I  do  to  amuse?  " 

"  Oh,  tell  me  anything  that's  interesting  —  tell 
me  about  yourself." 

He  sobered.  "  I  have  already  told  you  too 
much." 

She  leaned  toward  him  sweetly.  "  You  can 
trust  me.  I  am  a  woman  who  can  keep  a  secret." 

"  I  believe  it,"  he  answered,  in  the  same  grave 
tone.  "  Otherwise  I  never  would  have  breathed 
a  word  of  my  mission  here." 

"  You  know,"  she  continued,  laying  her  hand 
on  his  arm,  "  I  am  with  you  in  all  sympathy. 
I  understand  your  noble  wish  to  help  your  people. 
If  you  had  been  a  Nihilist  1  never  could  have 
listened  to  you  with  such  confidence.  But  your 

79 


WHITEWASH 

plan  to  raise  your  fellow  countrymen  by  educa 
tion,  even  if  it  has  to  be  given  in  secret,  is  wholly 
good  and  wise  and  noble.  It  is  the  first  really 
sensible  effort  I  have  heard  of." 

Taking  her  hand,  he  kissed  it  with  respectful 
adoration.  '  You  give  me  courage,  my  lady." 

Carried  away  by  the  situation,  she  went  on 
with  exaltation.  "  And  if  ever  I  can  help  you, 
let  me  knowr ;  you  will  always  have  a  friend  in 
me." 

"  What  you  have  just  promised  I  beg  you  to 
remember.  Some  day  I  may  have  to  ask  your 
favor,"  he  said,  slowly.  Then,  rising  nervously, 
he  peered  into  the  empty  hall. 

"  We  are  alone,"  she  murmured,  reassuringly; 
"  you  are  quite  safe." 

He  seated  himself,  relaxing  to  the  luxurious 
fulness  of  the  divan.  "  I  forget  I  am  in  the  land 
of  the  free,  I  have  lived  so  long  under  the  es 
pionage  of  the  police.  And  to  think,"  he  said, 
hotly,  "  that  my  only  crime  is  the  desire  to  help 
and  educate  my  unfortunate  people.  The  Rus 
sians,  having  taken  away  our  lands  and  privi 
leges,  are  now  robbing  us  of  our  brains.  Soon 
80 


WHITEWASH 

there  will  be  nothing  left  but  our  music  —  and 
that  they  cannot  kill."  He  spoke  with  passion, 
that  found  a  quick  response  in  the  dramatic  in 
stincts  of  his  hearer. 

"  In  these  days  of  indifference  your  patriotism 
fires  one,"  she  cried.  "  You  make  me  want  to 
help.  I  am  so  eager  to  know  more.  Oh,  I  wish 
you  would  tell  me  about  your  work  and  those 
who  help  you.  Your  stories  the  other  night  kept 
me  awake  thinking  of  the  nightly  gatherings  in 
secret  and  danger,  when  your  devoted  comrades 
teach  their  own  prohibited  tongue  and  keep  alive 
the  individuality  of  the  race  that  aliens  would 
crush  out.  I  could  never  have  believed  in  such 
tyranny  if  you  yourself  had  not  told  me.  It  is 
so  uncalled  for,  so  cruel !  " 

He  nodded  solemnly.  "  It  is  past  belief,  and 
if  you  questioned  a  Russian  he  would  emphatically 
deny  it,  either  because  he  was  ignorant  of  the 
truth,  or  because  he  dare  not  admit  it.  Only 
those  who  have  lived  as  I  have  and  seen  what  I 
have,  can  realize  what  the  suppression  of  the 
Poles  really  means.  The  power  we  are  contend 
ing  with  is  so  great,  so  secret,  so  terrible  —  why, 

81 


WHITEWASH 

even  here  I  am  probably  watched  by  their  spies. 
I  am  known  to  be  a  contributor  to  the  '  Educa 
tional  Society  '  —  indeed,  that  is  why  I  came  here. 
My  usefulness  at  home  was  ruined  by  their  hav 
ing  suspected  my  connection  with  the  work.  They 
cannot  prevent  my  collecting  funds  in  America, 
but  they  can  and  will  try  to  prevent  their  ever 
reaching  their  destination." 

"How  do  you  manage?"  Philippa  begged. 

He  pulled  himself  up,  as  if  his  enthusiasm  had 
already  outrun  his  caution. 

"  That  I  cannot  reveal,  even  to  you.  So  don't 
ask  me." 

"  Are  there  women  connected  with  the  work  ?  " 
she  inquired. 

"  Many ;  both  teachers  and  outside  workers. 
You  see,  the  element  we  represent  is  as  down  on 
the  bloody  and  incendiary  doctrines  of  the  Nihi 
lists  as  it  is  on  the  oppression  and  cruelty  of 
the  Russians,  consequently  our  membership  en 
rolls  many  women,  too  wise  and  gentle  to  be 
drawn  into  anarchy  and  too  devoted  and  clear- 
visioned  to  be  entirely  claimed  by  a  life  of  frivol 
ity.  Oh,  dear  lady,  I  wish  you  could  know  some 
82 


WHITEWASH 

of  them.  I  am  sure  you  would  find  them  con 
genial  —  almost  your  equals  in  heart,  mind,  and 
charm." 

His  verbose  sentences  and  elaborate  compli 
ments  somehow  became  him,  and  the  foreign 
accent  that  accompanied  his  words  was  a  charm 
in  itself.  Philippa  caught  herself  vaguely  wish 
ing  that  the  handsome  enthusiast  were  a  matri 
monial  possibility.  If  only  he  had  Morton's 
money  and  social  position!  Ah,  well,  it  was  all 
nonsense;  foreigners,  however  fascinating,  were 
never  certainties. 

He  had  risen  restlessly  and  wandered  to  the 
window.  He  glanced  out,  but  turned  hastily. 

"  Mr.  Conway  is  crossing  the  street.  Coming 
here,  I  suppose,"  he  said,  bitterly.  "  Tell  me, 
before  we  are  interrupted,  will  you  go  with  me 
on  Monday  to  Madame  Despard's  studio,  in  the 
Carnegie  —  a  little  reunion  of  grands  esprits,  a 
glimpse  of  Bohemia?  " 

Her  face  lighted.  "  Yes,  indeed,  I  shall  love 
it,  I  know." 

A  ring  at  the  door-bell  announced  the  new  ar 
rival. 

83 


WHITEWASH 

"  You  like  him  ?  "  Valdeck  asked,  half  in  ques 
tion,  half  in  challenge. 

"  He  is  my  dearest  friend,  you  know.  I  have 
often  thought  of  him  as  a  sort  of  Don  Quixote 
plus  intelligence,"  Philippa  plagiarized,  soulfully. 

He  looked  admiration  at  her.  "  I  love  the  way 
you  paint  a  character  in  a  single  sentence." 

"  Mr.  Conway,"  announced  the  butler. 

Valdeck  collected  his  hat,  stick,  and  gloves,  and 
bowed  politely,  the  two  men  exchanged  perfunc 
tory  greetings,  and  the  graceful  foreigner  took  his 
leave.  The  newcomer  watched  him  with  undis 
guised  annoyance. 

"  Philippa,  do  you  like  that  man?  " 

She  smiled  gleefully.  "  That's  just  what  he 
asked  about  you." 

This  did  not  seem  to  soothe  Morton's  feelings. 
"  You  are  so  much  in  his  society.  How  did  you 
meet  him?  " 

"  He  came  from  New  Orleans  with  a  letter 
of  introduction  from  one  of  my  old  schoolmates, 
Clarissa  Pointue  —  you  know  the  Pointues  of 
Louisiana  who  own  Angel  Island  ?  " 

"  Victoria  says  that  letters  of  introduction  and 
84 


WHITEWASH 

confidences  are  alike  —  they  had  better  not  be 
given.  By  the  way,  she's  back,  you  know." 

"Have  you  seen  her?"  she  asked,  with  as 
sumed  indifference,  stretching  her  little  trap. 

"  Of  course.  I  went  last  night  as  soon  as  I 
knew  where  she  was.  She  is  one  of  my  oldest 
and  best  friends,  that  rara  avis,  a  woman-chum." 

"  She  is  a  dear.  She  was  here  a  few  moments 
ago.  If  you  had  come  a  little  earlier  you  would 
have  been  rewarded." 

"  By  finding  you  two  discussing  the  latest  Pa 
risian  novelties,  and  having  no  satisfaction  out 
of  either  of  you." 

;'  You  see  we  are  so  intimate,"  she  smiled. 
"  She  came  over  at  once  to  see  me;  wasn't  it 
dear  of  her?"  She  hoped  Victoria  would  not 
by  any  chance  mention  the  fact  that  Philippa, 
having  seen  her  from  the  window,  had  sent  the 
butler  to  stop  her  and  insist  on  her  dropping 
in  for  a  moment.  However,  even  if  she  did,  it 
didn't  amount  to  much.  Philippa  argued  to  her 
self  that  the  more  praise  she  lavished  on  her  rival, 
the  more  would  any  derogatory  remark  of  Vic 
toria's  concerning  herself  sound  ungrateful  and 

85 


WHITEWASH 

mean  in  Morton's  ears.  She  went  on,  enthusias 
tically,  "  Her  home-coming  is  such  a  joy  to  me. 
She  is  one  of  the  few  really  loyal,  honest  women, 
trustworthy  and  genuine,  wrho  would  burn  off 
their  hands  rather  than  hurt  a  friend !  " 

Morton  nodded  appreciation.  "  A  woman  in  a 
thousand,  and  I  am  as  glad  to  see  your  affection 
for  her  as  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  wasting  yourself 
on  a  cad  like  Valdeck." 

Philippa  saw  her  chance  and  took  it. 

"  You  have  no  real  reason  to  dislike  him,  Mor 
ton,  and  you  know  it !  " 

"Oh,  haven't  I?" 

"  It's  just  because  he  is  here  so  much,  and 
you're  —  you're  —  it  hurts  me  to  have  you 
think  —  "  She  broke  off  with  a  plaintive  note. 

He  had  never  seen  her  with  the  bars  of  her 
coquetry  down,  and  his  love  of  her  flamed  up 
with  the  vision  of  his  hope.  He  came  across 
quickly,  leaning  with  both  hands  on  the  tea-table. 
"  I'm  foolish  because  I'm  jealous,  because  —  I 
love  you,  Philippa." 

She  fumbled  with  the  sugar-tongs,  her  fair  head 
bent.  Forcibly  he  raised  her  reluctant  chin  and 
86 


WHITEWASH 

looked  into  her  eyes.  What  he  saw  there  stung 
through  him  like  an  electric  shock. 

"  Oh,  sweetheart!  sweetheart!  "  he  murmured, 
kissing  her  on  her  uplifted,  unresisting  mouth. 
"  Why  did  you  play  with  me  so  long?  " 

There  was  silence  in  the  little  boudoir.  Then 
she  disengaged  herself  from  his  enfolding  arm 
and  looked  at  him  fondly.  She  pushed  back  his 
heavy  brown  hair,  and  fingered  his  cravat,  as  a 
child  takes  possession  of  a  strange  new  toy. 

"  Morton,"  she  said,  in  a  very  low  voice,  "  I 
—  I  —  don't  want  to  announce  it,  dear.  Aunt 
Lucy  has  her  heart  set  on  my  marrying  cousin 
Gabe,  and  she's  been  so  good  to  me  —  I  want  to 
win  her  over  to  you  without  giving  her  annoyance. 
You  understand,  dear?" 

"  I  hate  the  deceit  of  it,"  he  answered,  after  a 
moment's  uncomfortable  silence.  Her  instant 
desire  for  concealment  hurt  him.  Philippa  looked 
pained.  He  felt  like  a  blundering  bore,  and 
quickly  added,  "  But  it's  just  like  you  to  feel 
that  way  about  your  aunt,  and  I  love  you  for  it." 

She  cuddled  close  to  him,  holding  his  hand  in 
both  hers  and  twisting  his  plain  gold  seal  as  if 

87 


WHITEWASH 

it  engrossed  her  whole  attention.  "  You  see  I'm 
an  orphan.  I  haven't  much  money,  just  barely 
enough  to  give  me  necessaries.  Aunt  Lucy  has 
done  everything  for  me,  you  can't  guess  half, 
and  if  I  suddenly  turn  against  her  —  for  she'll 
think  it  that  —  it  will  break  her  heart.  She  will 
call  me  ungrateful,  and,  Morton,  you  know  I'm 
anything  but  that  —  I  —  I  couldn't  bear  it."  A 
childish  quiver  of  her  lips  spoke  louder  than 
words,  for  the  actress  in  her  was  "  feeling  her 
part,"  and  her  emotion  was  quite  genuine. 

"  Whatever  you  think  best  I'll  abide  by ;  I 
couldn't  love  you  so  if  I  didn't  trust  you  abso 
lutely,"  he  answered,  softly. 

The  rattle  and  chink  of  a  stopping  carriage 
broke  in  on  them. 

"There  she  is  now!"  Philippa  exclaimed,  in 
a  sharp  whisper,  withdrawing  from  his  embrace 
and  quickly  smoothing  her  hair. 

A  slam,  a  ring,  the  approach  of  the  butler,  a 
gust  of  cold  air  that  swung  the  curtains,  and  Mrs. 
Pendington  Ford  entered.  A  swift  glance  of  her 
sharp  gray  eyes  took  in  her  niece's  indifference, 
Morton's  confusion,  the  dents  in  the  pillows,  and 
88 


WHITEWASH 

the  disarray  of  the  tea-things.  Her  eyes  were 
pupilled  by  two  points  of  interrogation  as  she 
glanced  toward  Philippa.  but  she  greeted  the 
caller  with  formal  grace.  There  was  something  of 
the  drum-major  about  the  lady.  One  expected 
to  see  her  swing  her  gold-knobbed  parasol,  toss 
it  above  her  voluminous  head-dress  to  catch  it 
again  and  spin  it  solemnly  on  the  tip  of  her  too 
tightly  gloved  fingers.  She  was  tall,  stout,  florid. 
If  she  had  been  born  a  century  earlier  she  wrould 
have  been  a  loud-mouthed,  gambling  duchess; 
now  she  suggested  only  the  drum-major. 

Seating  herself  upon  the  uttermost  edge  of  a 
chair,  the  better  to  maintain  the  upright  dignity 
of  her  carriage,  she  smiled  slowly  and  wisely. 

"  My  dear,  a  fresh  cup,  please.  I  am  faint, 
positively.  I  drove  round  the  Park  and  stopped 
at  the  Tredways.  They  must  get  their  tea  from 
a  bargain-counter.  I  really  could  not  touch  it." 

Philippa,  with  commendable  sang-froid,  con 
cocted  a  well-rummed  beverage. 

"  Victoria  Claudel  has  just  been  here,"  she 
announced,  gaily. 


89 


WHITEWASH 

"  Indeed !  "  Mrs.  Pendington  Ford's  voice  was 
not  very  cordial.  "Where  is  she  stopping?" 

"  She  is  sharing  Mrs.  Testly  Durham's  suite 
at  the  Carnegie." 

"The  writer?" 

"  Yes,  Aunt  Lucy.  They  are  very  intimate 
friends." 

Victoria's  stock  went  up  six  points,  and  the 
drum-major  sipped  her  tea.  "  We  must  have  them 
to  dinner  sometime,  Philippa.  Miss  Claudel  is 
an  old  friend  of  yours,  is  she  not,  Mr.  Con- 
way?" 

"  Since  we  were  children,"  Morton  replied, 
glad  to  have  a  direct  question  to  answer,  and 
feeling  unable  to  cope  with  general  conversation. 

"  I  remember  her  mother,"  Mrs.  Ford  went  on, 
"  Miss  Graves,  of  Philadelphia,  a  delightful  girl. 
Her  marriage  to  Mr.  Claudel  was  considered  quite 
a  brilliant  one,  but  unluckily,  he  was  more  of  a 
scholar  than  a  man  of  business  —  lost  money 
constantly.  It  was  really  fortunate  he  died  early, 
or  the  family  would  have  been  quite  impover 
ished.  As  it  was,  the  children  and  Victoria  will 
only  have  barely  enough  to  live  on." 
90 


WHITEWASH 

"  The  estate  is  to  be  settled  now,  I  think," 
said  Philippa.  "  Bob  is  of  age,  if  I'm  not  mis 
taken." 

"  She  came  home  on  that  account,"  Morton  put 
in. 

Mrs.  Ford  was  benign  as  she  rose  to  her  feet. 
"  Well,  Philippa,  dear,  don't  forget  you  must 
dress  for  the  Bentleys'  dinner.  You  must  excuse 
my  rudeness,  Mr.  Conway,  but  she  is  such  a 
scatterbrained  girl  that  if  she  is  having  an  inter 
esting  conversation  she  forgets  her  engagements, 
and  is  known  as  the  late  Miss  Ford." 

Morton  blushed  and  glanced  at  his  watch.  "  I 
am  the  one  to  beg  indulgence;  it's  shockingly 
late,  —  I  - 

Mrs.  Ford  smiled  almost  affectionately.  "  My 
dear  man,  don't  apologize  for  paying  us  such 
a  nice  indirect  compliment.  Philippa,  dear,  you 
must  invite  Mr.  Conway  when  we  ask  Victoria 
and  Mrs.  Testly  Durham  to  dinner.  You'll  be 
sure  to  come,  won't  you  ?  " 

Morton  muttered  his  thanks  and  took  his  leave. 

As  the  street  door  closed  the  aunt  and  niece 
faced  each  other. 


WHITEWASH 

"  It's  done,  then.  My  congratulations,  dear." 
Approval  beamed  from  the  majestic  presence. 

Philippa  punched  a  pillow  and  shrugged  her 
shoulders. 

"  Yes." 

"  Well,  it  was  about  time  you  came  to  your 
senses  and  brought  things  to  a  crisis.  I  began  to 
despair  of  you,"  Mrs.  Ford  coolly  commented. 

"  I  can  take  care  of  myself." 

"  No,  my  love,  you  can't,  as  I've  noticed  to  my 
great  regret.  However,  I  shall  announce  the 
engagement  with  great  pleasure." 

"  You'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort !  "  Philippa's 
face  grew  crimson  with  annoyance. 

"  What  are  you  up  to  now  ?  "  her  aunt  inquired, 
with  obvious  cynicism. 

"  Nothing.  But  I  don't  want  it  known  yet ; 
I've  good  reasons." 

Mrs.  Ford  went  to  the  core  of  the  matter  with 
brutal  directness.  "  You  have  your  good-for- 
nothing  flirtation  with  that  Valdeck  on  foot,  that's 
what  you  have.  Now,  mark  my  words,  you'll 
get  into  trouble;  if  you  do,  don't  come  to  me. 
You  are  a  fool  if  you  take  chances  with  Morton 
92 


WHITEWASH 

Conway.  My  advice  is,  announce  your  engage 
ment  at  once,  marry  soon." 

"  Time  enough  to  settle  down,"  said  Philippa, 
irritably. 

"  My  dear,"  her  aunt  replied,  "  please  remem 
ber  that  people  usually  have  to  settle  up  before 
they  can  settle  down." 

"  Moralize  all  you  please,  aunty,  dear,"  and 
Philippa  took  another  tack,  "  but  please  don't 
go  announcing  till  I  tell  you.  I  give  you  my 
word  I'll  not  lose  him." 

Mrs.  Ford  spread  her  sails  and  swept  up  the 
stairs.  "  Very  well,"  she  said,  over  her  shoulder; 
"  but  don't  get  too  much  mixed  up  with  Valdeck." 

"  What  have  you  against  him  ?  I  thought  you 
prided  yourself  on  the  charity  of  your  judg 
ment,"  sneered  Philippa,  as  she  followed  in  her 
aunt's  rustling  wake. 

Mrs.  Pendington  Ford  sighed.  "  I  am  chari 
table  in  my  judgments,  because  one  must  have 
men  for  afternoon  teas,  but  I  wouldn't  risk  my 
queen  to  save  a  crook  —  I  mean  a  rook  —  to 
play  with.  What  will  you  wear  to-night?  " 

Philippa  considered.  Valdeck  would  be  asked, 

93 


WHITEWASH 

and  he  liked  odd  things.     "  The  green  spangled 
one,"  she  answered. 

"  Oh,  is  he  to  be  there?  "  the  drum-major  in 
quired,  negligently,  as  she  closed  her  bedroom 
door. 

Philippa  stamped  her  foot  with  vexation  and 
fairly  fled  up-stairs  to  her  own  sanctuary.  There 
she  flung,  or  more  properly  speaking,  disposed 
herself  upon  her  lounge,  and  rapidly  reviewed  the 
past  crowded  hours.  She  was  engaged  —  that 
she  knew ;  she  was  in  love  —  she  imagined. 
How  dreadfully  unfortunate  that  the  two  state 
ments  were  not  the  natural  sequence  of  each 
other.  Pity  for  herself  swept  over  her.  Alas, 
for  money  conditions!  cruel,  worldly  consider 
ations!  but  she  must  be  strong,  she  must  be 
wise,  and  keep  this  foolish  passion  in  its  place. 
She  pictured  herself  amid  the  luxurious  surround 
ings  her  future  fortune  would  assure  her,  and 
promptly  forgot  her  peine  de  cceur  in  the  pleasant 
occupation.  It  was  recalled,  however,  by  the 
entry  of  her  maid  bearing  a  square  envelope, 
directed  in  Valdeck's  familiar  hand,  and  a  small 
box  tied  with  a  pink  ribbon. 
94 


WHITEWASH 

"  Madame  says,"  timidly  suggested  the  ser 
vant,  "  that  mademoiselle  is  not  to  waste  time 
in  dressing.  What  gown,  mademoiselle?" 

"  Green  spangles,"  Philippa  answered,  absently, 
as  she  ripped  open  the  note. 

"  Most  sweet  lady,"  it  began,  "  pardon  my  pre 
sumption,  but  your  kindness  to-day  touched  me 
greatly.  Your  offer  to  help,  coming  as  it  did,  when 
I  was  racked  by  fears  and  perhaps  needless  ner 
vousness,  has  been  as  medicine  to  me.  You  who 
are  so  kind  add  one  more  obligation  to  the  many 
you  have  heaped  on  me,  by  accepting  the  little 
gift  I  send  herewith.  The  pin  was  my  mother's 
and  my  mother's  mother's  for  generations.  So  it 
is  rather  the  sentiment  attached  to  it  that  makes 
it  worthy  of  you  than  its  paltry  value.  Pray 
accept  this  little  keepsake  in  the  spirit  of  the 
sender. 

"  Lucius  VALDECK." 

As  she  read,  that  which  stood  with  Philippa  in 
the  place  of  conscience  smote  her  that  she  had  for 
gotten  her  devoted  knight  in  the  contemplation 

95 


WHITEWASH 

of  her  mundane  future.  To  make  amends,  and 
since  the  dramatic  qualities  of  the  situation  seemed 
to  require  it,  she  kissed  the  note,  carefully  avoid 
ing  the  observation  of  the  maid.  Next  with 
swift  fingers  she  unfastened  the  packet.  A  little 
hot  wave  of  joy  broke  over  her  as  its  contents 
lay  revealed,  An  ancient  brooch  of  rose  diamonds 
set  about  a  splendid  emerald,  matchless  in  color, 
though  flawed.  Wound  through  the  design  were 
two  tiny  gold  dolphins,  from  whose  mouths 
swinging  pendants  hung.  A  gem  of  workman 
ship,  beautiful,  priceless.  Philippa  gazed  at  it 
in  delight,  then,  fearing  her  aunt's  detective 
eye  and  ironic  laugh,  hastily  hid  the  jewel  in  her 
bosom. 


96 


"  PHILIPPA    GAZED   AT    IT    IN    DELIGHT,  THEN   .   .   .   HASTILY 
HID    THE    JEWEL    IN    HER    BOSOM." 


CHAPTER    II. 

JVlONDAY,"  said  Victoria,  as  she  tore  the 
Sunday  slip  from  the  calendar.     "  Let's  see  what 
it  says.     '  Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  us  ' 
oh,   dear,   why   will  they   supply   us   with   such 
antique  quotations  ?  " 

"  I  shall  compose  a  cynic's  calendar,"  said  Mrs. 
Durham,  from  her  desk.  "  A  little  thing  with 
quotations  from  well-known  philosophers,  notably 
Voltaire  and  Carlyle." 

"  Dyspeptic's  calendar  would  be  better,"  vol 
unteered  Miss  Claudel.  "  I'll  contribute  a  prov 
erb.  '  It's  a  strong  head  that  hath  no  turn- 
ing.'  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Mrs.  Durham,  presently,  "  wouldn't 

you  like  to  go  over  to  Madame  Despard's  studio 

this  afternoon?    She  has  one  of  her  'at  homes.' 

.  They  are  very  curious  and   wholly  instructive. 

97 


WHITEWASH 

It  is  the  cream  of  what  society  thinks  is  Bo 
hemia,  an  exhibition  of  genuine  Angoras.  No 
man  admitted  to  the  inner  circle  unless  his  am 
brosial  locks  sweep  his  collar  —  the  collar  gen 
erally  needs  it  badly.  I  go  constantly.  It's  a 
morbid  craving,  but  I  can't  control  it." 

Victoria  discovered  a  box  of  chocolates  and 
fell  on  them  voraciously.  "  My  dear,  I've 
seen  such  a  lot  of  foolishness  in  the  Paris  studios 
that  I  must  beg  to  be  excused." 

Mrs.  Durham  left  her  desk  and  came  across 
to  the  seductive  sweets.  "  No,  you  never  saw 
anything  like  this,"  she  insisted,  "  it  has  to  be 
seen  to  be  believed.  It  is  a  collection  of  creatures 
impossible  in  any  other  society  but  the  great, 
gullible  American  beau  monde.  Nowhere  else 
would  such  a  delightful  aggregation  of  side 
show  freaks  be  taken  seriously.  I  love  them, 
I  am  filled  with  a  fiendish  glee  whenever  I  go. 
It's  like  living  in  a  farce  comedy.  You'd  better 
come." 

"  All  right,"  Victoria  assented.  "  How  does 
one  dress?  " 

"  Soulfully.  Soul  is  the  key-note  of  these 
98 


WHITEWASH 

meetings.  If  you  have  anything  in  the  way  of 
a  '  poem,'  wear  it.  The  Despard  always  wears 
a  '  poem.'  The  last  was  a  sonnet  in  solferino." 

"  I  have  a  ballad  in  blue,  I  think,  but  it's  in 
the  bottom  of  my  trunk,"  Victoria  suggested.  "I 
might  wear  a  very  short  golf  skirt,  and  go  as 
a  quatrain;  I  have  been  told  my  feet  were  cor 
rect." 

"  I,"  said  Mrs.  Durham,  "  will  disport  my 
usual  '  lines  '  in  a  lavender  with  lace  refrain.  Mr. 
Theodore  Trent  Gore  told  me  last  time  it  re 
minded  him  of  Beethoven's  second  symphony." 

"  Who's  the  gentleman?  " 

"  What !  you  don't  know  the  American  Mal- 
larme  ?  the  Maeterlinckean  symbolist  of  the  New 
World?" 

"Alas!    no!" 

"  Nor  Stephen  McKenzie,  who  publishes  The 
Voice,  nor  Miss  Red,  who  does  terpsichorean- 
turns-for-the-first-families-only?  Oh,  my  dear, 
my  dear!  put  on  the  ballad  in  blue,  and  come  at 
once!  You  can't  be  too  early  or  stay  too  late 
in  your  pitiable  state  of  ignorance !  " 

Victoria  obediently  disappeared  into  the  depths 

99 


WHITEWASH 

of  a  voluminous  trunk.  For  a  moment  the  air 
was  thick  with  flying  vesture  as  she  dug  diligently 
-  much  as  a  fox-terrier  widens  a  woodchuck 
hole.  She  emerged  with  a  gown,  and  held  it  up 
for  inspection. 

Mrs.  Durham  nodded.  "  Very  good.  Hurry 
up  now  and  get  beautiful." 

"  You're  very  slangy  for  a  literary  light,"  her 
friend  observed,  as  she  began  a  leisurely  unhook 
ing. 

A  half-hour  skilfully  employed  produced  two 
very  striking  chefs  d'ceuvres,  —  Mrs.  Durham, 
pretty,  slender,  and  blonde;  Victoria,  handsome, 
wholesome,  and  richly  brunette.  They  stepped 
into  the  empty  resonant  corridor,  and,  after 
threading  many  devious  mazes,  emerged  into  a 
vestibule  from  which  three  doors  opened.  They 
were  all  ajar,  and  from  beyond  emanated  a  buzz 
of  conversation  and  a  chink  of  glasses.  Mrs. 
Durham  took  the  lead,  and,  pushing  aside  the 
bamboo  curtains,  they  entered  a  large  room,  half 
drawing-room,  half  studio.  The  upper  half, 
lighted  by  an  immense  glass  window,  covering 
nearly  the  whole  wall  space,  was  more  or  less 
100 


WHITEWASH 

furnished  by  easels,  paint-brushes  in  ginger  jars, 
bespattered  palettes,  and  scraps  of  drapery.  The 
lower  half  of  the  apartment  offered  a  not  ill- 
disposed  assortment  of  the  conventional  bibelots 
of  the  cultivated  collector.  A  colored  plaster 
cast  of  the  "  Unknown  Lady,"  and  a  reproduction 
of  the  "Tete  de  Cire "  attributed  to  Raphael, 
stood  on  Florentine  brackets  above  the  heavy 
Empire  writing-desk  of  vast  proportions.  Every 
where  hung  sketches,  mostly  unframed  and  bear 
ing  well-known  signatures.  A  collection  of  Jap 
anese  prints  in  gray  "  passepartouts  "  came  next 
to  the  door  opening  into  the  adjoining  room,  and 
above  the  grand  piano  hung  a  dozen  or  more 
framed  photographs  of  celebrities,  all  signed  and 
bearing  more  or  less  complimentary  remarks  con 
cerning  their  dear  and  admired  Madame  Despard. 
To  any  one  unaquainted  with  the  habits  of  celebri 
ties,  this  array  was  vastly  impressive,  but  it  is 
such  an  easy  way  to  repay  attentions,  that  — 
well,  why  rob  Madame  Despard  of  her  greatest 
glory? 

The  details  of  the  place  only  impressed  Vic 
toria  when  she  had  leisure  to  observe,  as  every- 

101 


WHITEWASH 

thing  to  a  height  of  six  feet  was  obscured  by  the 
weaving,  elbowing,  chattering  crowd  that  filled 
the  room,  a  kaleidoscope  of  all  feminine  textures 
and  hues,  plentifully  besprinkled  with  the  sober 
colors  of  the  male  visitors,  for  the  hostess  prided 
herself  that  men  were  never  lacking  for  her  "  at 
homes."  Mrs.  Durham  darted  between  the  en 
tering  groups  like  a  busy  shuttle  in  the  animated 
web,  and  seized  on  the  attention  of  a  weary-eyed 
woman  draped  in  a  Spanish  shawl. 

"  Dear  madame,"  she  cried,  "  as  wonderful  as 
ever  —  but  you  are  all  so  wonderful.  I  have 
brought  my  very  dear  friend,  Miss  Claudel.  She 
is  of  the  elect." 

The  hostess  enveloped  the  newcomer  in  an  in 
tent,  thoughtful  gaze.  "  Such  words  of  praise 
from  you,  dear  Muse,  more  than  ensure  her  sister 
hood  among  us.  Miss  Claudel,  we  are  a  little 
circle  of  souls  tightly  drawn  to  one  another  by 
the  bonds  of  the  mind  and  heart.  Our  welcome 
is  sincere.  Carl !  "  she  called,  dolorously.  A  long 
haired  gentleman  in  1830  costume  rose  from  his 
reclining  position  over  the  grand  piano,  and  ad 
vanced  with  Delsartean  grace.  "  Carl,  our  dear 
102 


WHITEWASH 

Muse  has  brought  one  of  the  elect,  Miss  Claudel. 
Find  her  a  comfortable  corner  and  supply  her 
needs." 

Mrs.  Durham  instantly  fell  into  the  hands  of  a 
tall  blond  soul,  with  wistful  eyes,  and  force  was 
for  Victoria,  feeling  much  confused,  to  follow 
the  lead  of  the  1830  apparition.  Escorted  to  a 
cushioned  divan  under  an  Oriental  canopy,  she 
settled  herself  and  gazed  about  her  with  such 
evident  interest,  that  her  companion  divined  her 
curiosity. 

"  Do  you  see  the  two  men  by  the  window  — 
the  one  with  the  Jove-like  head,  that's  Hartly, 
the  poet,  who  wrote  the  '  Songs  of  Satan ;  '  a 
charming  fellow.  The  man  he's  talking  to  is  a 
fellow  named  Brown.  Does  skits  and  foolish 
things  for  the  '  Lambs'  Club.'  I  never  could 
understand  why  he  is  tolerated  here.  I  have  a 
feeling  whenever  I  see  him  that  he  does  not  ap 
preciate  the  spirit  of  our  gatherings.  There  is 
an  ironic  levity  about  him  that  hurts  me.  But 
I  must  not  malign  him  to  you,  as  he  is  a  great 
friend  of  our  dear  Muse.  They  always  sit  to- 


103 


WHITEWASH 

gether  at  these  gatherings  and  they  seem  to  enjoy 
each  other  vastly." 

Victoria  longed  secretly  for  the  foolish  Brown, 
whom  she  began  to  suspect  of  a  sense  of  humor, 
but  dared  not  voice  her  desire. 

"  The  lady  with  the  marabouts  is  the  Baroness 
Corolla,"  her  Virgil  continued,  "  formerly  '  Mile. 
Zulie,'  the  chant euse  eccentrique.  She  wasn't 
much  of  a  chanteuse,  I  hear,  but  she  excelled  in 
the  eccentrique.  The  thick-set  man?  Oh,  yes, 
that's  Melville,  the  music  critic.  His  divorce 
has  just  been  granted;  we  all  expect  he  will 
marry  the  lady  over  there  in  black  with  the  white 
roses.  She's  Marion  Delplain,  the  singer,  and 
quite  his  affinity.  That's  his  wife  over  there  in 
sables  and  blue  velvet  —  oh,  dear,  yes,  they  are 
great  friends.  He's  a  political  economist.  The 
slim  girl?  That  is  Miss  Red,  my  sister." 

"  The  lady  who  dances  so  wonderfully  ?  "  asked 
Victoria.  "  I  have  heard  of  her." 

"  Indeed?  She  will  be  glad.  I  recite  for  her 
while  she  poses  —  little  things  of  my  own,  sug 
gested  by  the  music." 


104 


WHITEWASH 

"  Really  ?  How  I  should  love  to  be  present 
sometime." 

"  Perhaps,"  and  he  smiled  kindly,  "  we  may 
give  some  little  trifle  this  afternoon  —  we  are  all 
under  tribute  here.  In  madame's  salon  one  can 
not  do  less  than  give  freely  of  one's  gifts.  These 
are  gatherings  of  the  inner  circle,  few  are  ad 
mitted  who  are  not  vouched  for,  even  as  your 
friend  presented  you." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Victoria,  "  I  see  Miss  Trevor 
and  Miss  Berkley  —  are  they  of  the  circle?  " 

"  Patrons  of  ours,"  Mr.  Red  loftily  allowed. 
"  Horace  must  invite  Maecenas.  My  sister  dances 
at  their  houses  next  week." 

"  And  the  stout  man  in  the  corner?  " 

"  Once  again  Maecenas ;  he  is  Mr.  Gustell,  the 
publisher.  He  has  brought  out  a  number  of  us 
in  book  form,  both  by  picture  and  print.  S — h, 
we  must  not  speak  while  Herr  Balder  plays; 
nothing  so  annoys  the  sensitives." 

Silence  fell  upon  the  assembly  as  a  stout  little 
man,  with  speaking  black  eyes,  seated  himself 
at  the  piano,  swept  the  audience  with  a  dreamy 
glance,  and  fixed  his  gaze  suddenly  on  Victoria. 

105 


WHITEWASH 

He  struck  a  few  preliminary  chords,  got  up, 
whirled  the  piano-stool,  and  began  to  play 
Viennese  waltzes  of  languorous  swing. 

Victoria,  thus  selected  as  object  of  the  serenade, 
became  embarrassed  and  uncomfortable,  but  Mr. 
Red  was  delighted  that  his  companion  should  be 
thus  singled  out.  In  defiance  of  the  feelings  of 
the  "  sensitives,"  he  whispered  : 

"  It's  an  open  secret  that  Herr  Balder  always 
dedicates  his  work  to  the  most  beautiful  woman 
present.  You  should  feel  flattered." 

It  was  on  Victoria's  tongue  to  call  the  custom 
a  piece  of  impertinence,  but  she  reflected  upon  the 
Romans  and  their  habits  and  the  duties  of  visitors 
at  that  capital.  The  humor  of  it  struck  her,  and 
despite  her  efforts,  she  smiled,  a  lapse  that  had 
the  effect  of  doubling  the  attentions  of  the  genius, 
who  fairly  made  love  to  his  keyboard  proxy. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  performance  there  was 
no  applause,  "  Just  as  there  should  be  no  prizes 
in  such  a  gathering,"  Mr.  Red  explained ;  but 
from  various  corners  affected  souls  rushed  for 
ward  to  present  their  appreciations. 

The  little  pianist  bowed  stiffly,  with  a  gentle, 
106 


WHITEWASH 

fatuous  smile  on  his  round  face,  and  turning  to 
Madame  Despard,  evidently  asked  for  an  intro 
duction  to  Victoria.  They  both  turned  toward 
her  and  advanced  hand  in  hand.  The  hostess, 
with  a  graceful  drape  of  her  shawl,  giving  her 
self  the  lines  of  an  enlarged  tanagra,  stood  before 
the  divan. 

"  Miss  Claudel,  our  dear,  wonderful  Herr 
Balder  wishes  to  meet  you.  Let  me  introduce  two 
affinities.  Carl,"  she  continued,  dreamily,  "  your 
sweet  sister  Terpsichore  has  consented  to  do 
'  Narcissus  '  for  us.  She  has  just  finished  chang 
ing  her  costume.  Your  mother  will  play,  and 
of  course  you  will  improvise,  so  I  must  tear  you 
from  the  society  of  our  new  sister." 

He  leaned  over  her.  "  Herr  Balder  shall  not 
alone  have  the  honor  of  offering  you  his  muse; 
/  will  improvise  to  you !  " 

Victoria  controlled  a  laugh  and  looked  as  soul 
ful  as  the  circumstances  seemed  to  require. 

The  poet  turned  to  follow  his  hostess,  and  she 
encountered  a  valentine  in  each  of  Herr  Balder's 
round  eyes.  The  suppressed  laugh  broke  out. 


107 


WHITEWASH 

She  blushed  at  her  rudeness,  and  endeavored  to 
cover  it. 

"  I  feel  as  happy  as  a  girl  at  her  first  ball," 
she  gurgled. 

"  And  I  am  as  happy  as  a  man  in  love,"  he 
replied,  voicing  the  valentine. 

"  Why,  I  thought  a  man  in  love  was  always 
a  most  unhappy  creature?  " 

"  No,  not  so,"  he  smiled. 

Anxious  to  break  the  rather  awkward  thread 
of  the  conversation,  she  turned  toward  the  room. 
"  We  must  be  quiet.  Mr.  Red  is  going  to  begin." 

The  piano  now  attacked  by  a  stout  lady,  whose 
gown  resembled  a  purple  toga,  gave  forth  in 
rather  mechanical  time,  the  familiar  strains  from 
the  "Water  Nymph  Suite."  The  1830  poet 
gloomed  and  glowered,  turning  his  inspired  orbs 
upon  the  conscious  Victoria. 

"Oh,  love,  it  is  thy  beautiful  face  I  see!" 

Mr.  Red  exclaimed,  in  liquid  tones,  half-recita 
tion,  half-song. 

The  Japanese  curtain  parted,  the  slim  girl  in 
Greek  attire  reaching  to  the  knee,  like  the  Spartan 
1 08 


WHITEWASH 

girl's  running  costume  made  famous  by  the  statue, 
gambolled  awkwardly  in  on  the  tips  of  her  pink 
satin  ballet  slippers. 

"  Oh,  gaze  on  me !  oh,  gaze  on  me  !  " 

continued  the  improvisator.  The  gleesome  sister 
executed  a  colt-like  gyration  and  stood  "  at  pose." 

A  discreet  murmur  greeted  the  picture.  Around 
the  imaginary  pool,  the  more  than  imaginary 
Narcissus  cavorted,  smiling  admiringly  at  the 
polished  floor  from  which  the  rugs  had  been  rolled 
back.  The  beat  of  the  piano  and  the  cadences 
of  the  poet  dwindled  in  Victoria's  ears  as  the 
absurdity  of  the  dance  took  hold  upon  her.  The 
time  changed.  Mr.  Red  changed  the  metre  of  his 
poem  and  announced  "  The  Anger  of  the  Gods." 
The  dancer,  who  had  certainly  earned  it,  seemed, 
to  do  her  justice,  to  be  in  trouble.  "  Narcissus 
transformed  to  a  flower,"  melodiously  warbled 
the  poet,  selecting  another  attitude,  the  music  re 
turning  to  its  opening  movement.  Narcissus  stood 
poised  on  one  foot,  seemingly  unable  to  place  the 
other. 

"  A  flower  upon  its  stem,"  observed  Herr 
Balder. 

109 


WHITEWASH 

"  A  stork  on  one  leg,"  Victoria  retorted,  in  a 
whisper. 

He  looked  pained.     "Don't  you  admire  it?" 

"  The  music,  yes." 

"  No,  the  idealization." 

"  Meaning  the  acrobatics?     I  can't  say  I  do." 

He  sighed.  "  It  is  not  her  best,  perhaps.  You 
should  see  her  do  the  Rubaiyat!  " 

Victoria  flamed.   "  The  Rubaiyat !  She  dares !  " 

"  A  genius  always  dares." 

"  Good  heavens !  "  The  gray  eyes  filled  with 
resentment.  "  Anything  but  that  —  it's  sacri 
lege!" 

The  music  ceased.  A  murmur  of  delight,  a 
sudden  chorus  of  adulation  met  the  "  artists." 

"They  actually  applaud  that!"  Victoria  ex 
claimed,  in  amaze. 

"  Applaud  and  pay  for  the  privilege  elsewhere. 
She  gets  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  and  more 
for  a  dance." 

Victoria  rubbed  her  eyes.     "  I  have  been  away 
for  some  time,   I  know,  and  there  is  nonsense 
enough  in  Europe  over  such  things,  but  —  never, 
never  would  have  believed  it  possible  here." 
no 


WHITEWASH 

"  It  is  only  one  phase  of  our  new  artistic  devel 
opment,"  said  Herr  Balder,  encouragingly.  "  You 
will  hear  and  see  many  things  in  this  salon  that 
will  doubtless  delight  you.  Miss  Fenodo  will  read 
from  her  poems.  I  fancy  she  is  more  in  your 
line." 

In  the  buzz  of  renewed  conversation  and  gen 
eral  shifting  of  partners,  Mrs.  Durham  had  made 
her  escape  and  was  coming  toward  them. 

"  Isn't  she  handsome!  "  exclaimed  Herr  Balder, 
"dear  Muse!" 

The  Muse  certainly  was  handsome.  Her  girl 
ish,  slender  fairness  did  not  prevent  her  face  from 
showing  the  vigorous  intellect  behind  it,  nor  the 
cynical  humor  of  her  eyes,  which  were  the  only 
old  thing  about  her.  She  subsided  on  the  divan, 
and  gazed  at  her  friend  with  mirthful  inquiry. 

"  Having  a  good  time?  " 

Victoria  nodded.  "  Yes,  but  I'm  a  little  con 
fused.  You  know  Herr  Balder  ?" 

"  Oh,  dear,  yes ;  every  one  in  the  inner  circle 
knows  his  geniusship." 

The   musician    beamed    and    bowed.      "  Miss 


in 


WHITEWASH 

Claudel  does  not  seem  to  admire  Miss  Red's 
interpretations  as  we  do,"  he  murmured. 

"  Really!  "  and  Mrs.  Durham  looked  with  such 
innocent  reproof  at  her  unenthusiastic  friend  that 
Victoria  all  but  lost  her  self-control. 

"  Ah !  "  she  went  on,  "  she  hasn't  seen  Madame 
Despard  faint  down-stairs  backwards.  That  is 
a  dream  of  grace ;  it  always  reminds  me  of  Alice, 
who  studied  '  drawling  and  stretching  and  fainting 
in  coils.'  ' 

"  I  don't  believe  I  know  the  lady,"  Herr  Balder 
remarked. 

"  Oh,  she's  Alice  Carroll,  a  friend  of  our  youth 
and  the  delight  of  our  old  age.  There's  quite  a 
crush  to-day.  I  see  Miss  Lewis,  Miss  Manse,  and 
Mrs.  Bonson.  When  were  they  admitted  ?  or  are 
they  just  Maecenases  ?  " 

"  Is  that  one  of  the  passwords  of  the  inner 
circle?  "  Victoria  inquired  ;  "  and  have  you  made 
a  verb  —  I  Maecenas,  thou  Msecenasest,  and  he 
Maecenases?  " 

Mrs.  Durham  called  Victoria's  attention  to  a 
couple  near  them.  "  There  is  Mr.  Valdeck  with 
a  very  smart-looking  woman.  Probably  he's 
112 


WHITEWASH 

showing  her  Bohemia,  as  one  takes  a  party 
through  the  slums." 

"  Why,  it's  Philippa  Ford,"  Victoria  exclaimed. 
"  Who  did  you  say  the  man  was?  " 

"  Lucius  Valdeck,  an  Austrian  or  a  Pole  or 
something,  travelling  for  pleasure.  He  hasn't 
been  here  long;  in  fact,  when  I  met  him  he  was 
just  up  from  New  Orleans,  and  that  wasn't  more 
than  —  let's  see  —  three  months  ago.  He  has 
made  his  way  with  wonderful  rapidity ;  one  meets 
him  everywhere,  and  he  hasn't  a  title,  either." 

Victoria  drew  her  heavy  brows  together  in  a 
frown.  "  I've  seen  him  before ;  I'm  sure  I  have, 
but  I  can't  place  him." 

"  Oh,  probably ;  he's  the  sort  of  a  person  one 
would  be  sure  to  meet  with  in  society,  either 
proper  or  improper." 

"  I'll  ask  Philippa  about  him ;  he's  somebody, 
or  she  wouldn't  bother  with  him.  By  the  way, 
I  promised  her  she  should  meet  you.  She  admires 
your  work  immensely.  I'll  call  her  over." 

Philippa,  having  been  introduced  to  the  pre 
siding  soul,  was  slowly  progressing  through  the 
crowd,  while  Valdeck  presented  various  notables. 


WHITEWASH 

He  was  devoted,  almost  tender,  and  did  not  seem 
in  the  least  desirous  of  masking  his  infatuation 
for  his  companion.  She  was  looking  her  best  — 
and  knew  it.  Her  blonde  hair  shone  softly  under 
a  velvet  hat  with  curling  plume.  Her  color  was 
high,  her  eyes  brilliant,  she  exhaled  a  perfume 
of  violets  and  elegant  femininity.  In  her  tri 
umphal  progress  she  approached  Victoria,  who 
nodded  pleasantly.  She  at  once  disengaged  her 
self  from  the  tentacles  of  the  editor  of  The  Voice, 
and  having  recognized  Mrs.  Durham,  precipitated 
herself  upon  Victoria  —  introductions  followed, 
and  the  authoress  found  herself  metaphorically 
clasped  to  the  breast  of  her  "  constant  reader." 

Meanwhile,  Valdeck  having  become  separated 
from  Philippa  in  the  latter's  dash  for  the  divan, 
was  looking  about  eagerly  in  search  of  her.  The 
crowd  was  so  great  that  the  low  seat  in  the  corner 
was  almost  constantly  obscured  from  his  view, 
and  it  is  doubtful  whether  he  would  have  dis 
covered  where  she  was,  had  he  not  become  con 
scious  of  being  stared  at  by  some  one.  He  shifted 
uneasily  with  the  uncanny  sensation,  and  looking 
in  the  direction  of  the  annoyance,  he  caught  sight 
114 


SUDDENLY    HIS    EYES    MET    VICTORIA'S. 


WHITEWASH 

of  his  lady,  deep  in  animated  conversation  with  a 
woman  in  lavender.  But  she  was  not  looking  at 
him,  it  was  not  she  that  called  his  attention.  Sud 
denly  his  eyes  met  Victoria's  as  she  stared  in  an 
evident  effort  to  place  him.  A  vision,  clear  and 
sharp,  flashed  before  his  eyes  —  a  vision  of  that 
same  face,  and  another  as  striking,  framed  in  the 
darkness  of  a  dormer-window  and  illuminated 
by  a  candle,  suddenly  thrust  aloft.  His  heart 
stopped  beating. 

"  Auray !  "  He  almost  spoke  the  word.  Out 
wardly  his  calm  did  not  desert  him.  Changing 
his  direction,  as  if  he  had  perceived  some  one  re 
quiring  his  attention,  he  disappeared  into  the 
adjoining  room,  where  the  punch-bowl,  ringed 
with  glasses,  called  the  convivially  inclined.  He 
poured  himself  a  glass,  noticing  as  he  did  so  a 
slight  tremor  in  his  hand.  With  wonderful  nerve 
he  steadied  himself  and  drank.  "  This  has  got 
to  be  planned  for,"  he  thought.  "  I  must  keep 
out  of  sight,  if  possible;  if  not,  it  will  have  to 
be  brazened  out.  Oh,  the  damnable  luck  of  it !  " 

A  superstitious  fear  tightened  about  his  heart. 
He  had  always  been  so  amazingly  fortunate. 

"5 


WHITEWASH 

Was  a  turn  in  that  fabled  wheel  to  transform 
his  car  of  triumph  into  the  Juggernaut  that  should 
crush  him?  He  plucked  out  the  fear  resolutely. 
Very  probably  she  had  not  recognized  him.  How 
ever,  she  evidently  felt  that  she  had  seen  him 
before.  From  that  to  recognition  was  only  a 
step,  one  that  might  or  might  not  be  taken,  but 
one  to  be  prepared  for.  He  glanced  rapidly  over 
his  present  position.  As  far  as  he  could  judge 
it  was  secure ;  his  letters  of  introduction  had  been 
excellent.  The  warm-hearted  Southerners  to 
whom  he  had  devoted  himself  on  his  ocean  trip 
had  more  than  rewarded  his  attentions.  Nothing 
could  be  proved  for  months,  and  all  he  wanted 
was  another  week  or  two  of  his  present  freedom. 

He  stopped  short.  The  pin !  the  jewel  he  had 
foolishly  given  Philippa  the  more  securely  to  bind 
her  to  his  interests!  It  was  a  part  of  that  very 
Auray  haul!  Again  a  stab  of  foreboding  smote 
him,  and  he  cursed  himself. 

"  That's  what  I  get  for  letting  my  foolish 
antiquarian  respect  get  the  better  of  my  judg 
ment,"  he  thought.  "  It  should  have  been  broken 
up  along  with  the  modern  pieces;  though  it  was 
116 


WHITEWASH 

hardly  worth  five  hundred  francs  aside  from  its 
artistic  value.  Rose  diamonds  have  no  market, 
and  the  emerald,  good  color,  was  terribly  flawed. 
There's  only  one  chance  in  a  million  that  that 
girl  may  have  seen  it  on  the  old  lady;  another 
chance  in  a  thousand  that  she  would  recall  it 
sufficiently  to  identify  it.  But  —  I  must  get  the 
thing  from  Philippa  at  any  cost,"  he  said,  aloud. 
"  She's  wearing  it !  "  flashed  over  him.  He  drank 
another  glass  of  punch  and  sat  down.  "  She  has 
her  sable  cape  on,"  he  argued;  "it's  becoming; 
she  won't  take  it  off  unless  the  place  gets  insup- 
portably  hot.  Perhaps  —  But  allowing  she  does 
show  it  —  what  then?"  He  clenched  his  hand. 
"  Vanity,  pride  —  those  are  her  weaknesses.  I 
must  compromise  her  so  completely  that  to  save 
herself  she  will  have  to  work  with  me.  She's 
a  fool,  and  she  loves  the  venturesome,  provided 
she  thinks  she  won't  be  caught.  She  believes  she 
can  manage  men,  in  any  and  all  situations  — 
we'll  see.  She'll  go  to  dinner  if  she  can  give  her 
aunt  a  good  excuse.  She  must  be  dining  some 
where  else.  A  girl  of  that  kind  always  has  a 
friend  to  use  as  a  blind,  either  because  she's  good- 

117 


WHITEWASH 

natured,  or  because  she  wants  a  return  in  kind. 
How  am  I  to  get  hold  of  her  without  running 
up  against  the  other  girl?"  Like  Napoleon, 
he  possessed  the  faculty  of  concentrating  his 
thoughts  in  the  most  distracting  environments. 
With  the  whole  energy  of  his  physical  and  mental 
strength  he  set  himself  to  frame  his  plans  amid 
the  hubbub  of  the  afternoon  tea.  The  better 
to  excuse  his  absorption  he  opened  his  note-book 
and  became  apparently  engrossed  in  jotting  down 
something  from  time  to  time  —  a  trick  not  infre 
quent  in  this  circle  of  idea-mongers. 

Meanwhile  Philippa  was  deploying  her  forces 
to  surround  and  capture  Mrs.  Testly  Durham 
for  her  purposed  dinner. 

"When  could  she  and  dearest  Victoria  come? 
It  must  be  soon.  What,  all  the  week  engaged? 
They  must  set  their  own  date,  then  —  such  busy 
people!  Oh,  yes,  she  knew  they  must  be  fairly 
importuned  with  invitations  —  but  this  was  dif 
ferent;  friends  from  childhood.  So  glad  Vic 
toria  had  at  last  come  home." 

"  Dear   Victoria,"   who   fully  appreciated   the 


118 


WHITEWASH 

situation,  smiled  sweetly  at  Mrs.  Durham's  strug 
gles  in  the  well-known  net. 

"  Let  us  say  next  Thursday,  then,"  she  finally 
put  in,  with  decision. 

Mrs.  Durham's  mouth  opened  to  remind  Vic 
toria  of  the  Gordon's  poster-party,  but  a  dig  from 
a  neatly  shod  foot  turned  the  reminder  to  a 
cordial  acceptance. 

Victoria  broached  her  puzzle.  "  Who  is  the 
man  you  came  in  with,  Philippa?  I've  seen  him 
somewhere,  or  else  he  looks  like  some  one  I  have 
seen,  but  I  can't  place  him,  and  my  brain  is  soften 
ing  from  the  strain." 

Philippa's  face  brightened,  delighted  to  blow 
the  trumpet  of  her  protege's  prowess.  "  Mr. 
Valdeck.  Such  a  dear.  He's  quite  after  your 
own  heart,  so  charming,  so  cultivated,  so  well- 
bred.  He  belongs  to  a  well-known  Polish  family, 
is  wealthy.  He  is  travelling  for  pleasure  under 
an  incognito,  of  course,  to  avoid  newspaper  re 
porters  and  that  sort  of  thing.  Oh,  he  is  a  very 
serious,  retiring  sort  of  fellow  in  spite  of  his 
social  position.  The  Pointue  girls  gave  him  let 
ters  of  introduction  —  one  to  me,  of  course  - 

119 


WHITEWASH 

Constielo  Pointue  and  I  are  close  friends,  you 
know.  He  has  been  a  great  success.  All  of  our 
set  have  received  him.  You  must  meet  him. 
Where  is  he,  I  wonder?  I  thought  he  would 
follow  me  over  here.  Madame  Despard  must 
have  seized  on  him  to  entertain  some  wallflower 
-  he  is  so  good-natured.  Between  ourselves,"  she 
added,  in  her  desire  to  aggrandize  her  adorer, 
"  he  has  an  important  mission  over  here ;  not 
officially,  you  know,  and  you  mustn't  refer  to  it. 
His  telling  me  was  quite  confidential.'* 

Mrs.  Durham  smiled.  "  You  may  rest  as 
sured  that  Miss  Claudel  and  I  will  keep  the  secret 
as  you  would  yourself." 

"  Oh,  I'm  sure  of  it,"  Philippa  went  on,  uncon 
scious  of  the  speaker's  mild  irony,  "  I  am  an  ex 
cellent  judge  of  people.  I  can  count  my  mistakes 
on  my  fingers." 

"  But  all  this,"  Victoria  objected,  ruefully, 
"  doesn't  help  me  in  the  least.  I  cannot  place  the 
man,  and  I  feel  memory  nagging  at  conscious 
ness,  as  if  it  were  connected  with  something  im 
portant.  Don't  you  hate  that  sensation  ?  " 

Mrs.  Durham  nodded  assent. 
120 


WHITEWASH 

A  strident  "  S — h — sh  "  from  the  hostess  si 
lenced  the  chatter  in  the  rooms.  "  Miss  Fenodo 
will  read  a  few  selections  from  her  forthcoming 
book  of  poems,"  she  announced. 

A  tall,  angular  woman,  clad  in  a  plain  serge 
walking-suit,  rose  to  her  feet  and  nodded  awk 
wardly  at  the  gathering.  She  seemed  ill  at  ease, 
and  fumbled  nervously  with  several  typewritten 
papers. 

"  '  The  Enchanted  Mesa,'  "  she  read,  in  an  un 
certain  voice. 

Philippa  turned  a  vague  eye  on  Victoria. 
"What's  a  'Mesa'?" 

"  '  The  Enchanted  Mesa,' '  explained  Mrs. 
Durham,  "  is  the  name  of  those  curious  moun 
tains  in  Arizona  or  New  Mexico  —  it's  —  " 

But  the  lank  poetess  had  struck  her  gait,  as  one 
sometimes  sees  a  lean,  loose-built  horse  develope 
exceeding  speed.  Hers  was  real  poetry,  clear, 
terse,  forceful,  and  colored.  Amid  the  trumpery 
nonsense  of  the  mock  Bohemian  salon,  it  was  as 
much  out  of  place  as  a  jewel  in  an  ash-heap. 
Every  line  minted  clear  and  gleaming,  the  rare 
golden  coin  of  language. 

121 


WHITEWASH 

An  astonished  silence  followed  the  reading,  but 
Victoria  startled  the  audience  with  a  vehement 
and  reverberating  "  Bravo !  "  The  applause  broke 
out  in  a  decorous  wave,  but  it  was  plain  to  be  seen 
that  the  shot  had  passed  far  over  the  heads  of  most 
of  the  listeners,  notably  the  editor  of  The  Voice, 
who  shrugged  his  shoulders,  as  if  he  had  refused 
that  sort  of  thing  by  the  ton. 

The  eyes  of  the  reader  naturally  turned  to  the 
group  on  the  divan,  where  Victoria,  overcome  by 
the  sudden  outburst  of  her  own  voice,  was  blush 
ing  furiously. 

"  '  A  Legend  of  Monterey.'  "  She  read  the 
verses  directly  to  her  partisan  with  a  half-apol 
ogetic  look,  as  if  explaining  the  need  of  a  mental 
support.  This  time  the  enthusiasm  was  more 
roused,  and  Victoria's  sincere  delight  found  fuller 
backing. 

"  I'm  going  to  speak  to  her,"  she  announced, 
as  the  woman  crumpled  her  papers  and  moved 
stiffly  aside. 

"  So  am  I,"  Mrs.  Durham  exclaimed.  "  She's 
real." 

Philippa,  who  had  a  witty  epigram  all  prepared, 

122 


WHITEWASH 

with  which  to  crush  the  poetess,  was  annoyed  at 
the  enthusiasm  of  her  companions,  but  as  Mrs. 
Durham  was  a  celebrity,  and  Victoria,  as  she  had 
good  cause  to  know,  was  an  unerring  picker  of 
literary  winners,  she  reluctantly  pocketed  the  epi 
gram,  for  use  at  some  other  time,  and  announced 
herself  on  fire  to  pay  tribute  to  "  that  really  re 
markable  talent." 

The  three  ladies  had  risen,  when  a  servant  ap 
proached  Philippa  with  a  folded  card. 

"  Wait  for  me  one  moment,"  she  begged,  "  till  I 
see  what  this  is." 

Two  lines  in  pencil  in  Valdeck's  hand.  "  Rus 
sian  consul  just  come ;  must  slip  off.  Join  me  in 
vestibule,  please  —  undiscovered." 

With  a  delighted  sense  of  her  importance  and 
the  romance  of  the  situation,  Philippa  blushed 
with  eagerness  and  excitement.  "  I'm  so  sorry !  " 
she  exclaimed,  hurriedly ;  "  I  must  go  at  once. 
Do  remember  Thursday  next;  I'm  coming  to 
call  before,  of  course.  Good-bye,  Mrs.  Durham, 
I'm  so  glad  to  have  met  you;  good-bye.  Oh, 
Victoria,  will  you  fasten  this  hook  for  me,  like 
a  dear?"  She  leaned  forward,  holding  out  the 

123 


WHITEWASH 

soft  fur  edges  of  her  cape  collar,  revealing  as 
she  did  so  the  elaborate  velvet  applique  of  her 
waist  and  the  exquisite  beauty  of  an  ancient  pin 
that  nestled  at  her  throat. 

Victoria's  eyes  rested  on  it  for  one  breathless 
second,  then  her  voice  spoke  strange  and  sharp  as 
she  fairly  jerked  out  the  question :  "  Where  did 
you  get  that  ?  " 

"  Goodness !  "  thought  Philippa,  quickly,  "  I 
can't  tell  her  I  accepted  such  a  valuable  present 
from  Valdeck  —  can't  even  excuse  it  on  old 
friendship.  I'm  engaged  to  Morton,  I  forgot  to 
tell  her  —  but  now  isn't  the  time."  An  imper 
ceptible  pause  covered  this  calculating.  "  Why, 
Victoria,"  she  said,  gently,  "  what  makes  you  so 
savage?  It's  an  old  thing  of  mother's.  I  found 
it  not  long  ago  among  some  letters  and  keepsakes 
of  hers.  Pretty,  isn't  it?" 

Philippa's  voice  was  full  of  sentiment  and  sor 
row.  To  hear  her  one  felt  instinctively  the  desire 
to  protect  this  motherless  girl,  and  to  pass  quickly 
from  a  subject  that  might  cause  sad  recollections. 
Victoria  controlled  the  strong  emotion  that  shook 
her. 

124 


WHITEWASH 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  awkwardly,  "  it's  very  hand 
some  and  most  unusual." 

"  I  must  go,"  Philippa  mourned,  and  with  an 
affectionate  backward  glance,  moved  toward  her 
hostess.  "  Such  a  charming  time,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Despard.  You  must  come  to  my  Thursdays.  I 
hear  the  Russian  consul  is  here ;  do  point  him  out 
to  me." 

"Is  he?"  queried  madame,  languidly.  "I 
don't  know,  I'm  sure;  some  one  must  have 
brought  him.  Yes,  do  come  again." 

"  Let's  go,"  said  Victoria,  shortly,  as  Philippa 
left  them,  "  I  want  to  talk  to  you ;  I  want  to  get 
out  of  this."  Mrs.  Durham  looked  astonishment, 
but  Victoria  persisted. 

"  Let's  leave  immediately,  if  you  don't  mind  — 
that  is  —  I'm  upset." 

Mrs.  Durham  sent  a  diagnosing  glance  over 
her  charge  and  nodded,  her  face  becoming  serious. 
"  Is  anything  the  matter?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Victoria,  helplessly ; 
"  I  wish  I  did." 

Mrs.  Durham  promptly  linked  her  arm  through 
her  friend's,  and  bore  her  rapidly  down  the  room 

125 


WHITEWASH 

to  where  the  hostess  stood  talking  in  the  centre 
of  a  little  attentive  circle. 

"  We  want  to  extend  our  thanks  to  you," 
she  said,  "  for  the  pleasure  and  the  priv 
ilege  of  hearing  such  good  poetry.  We  really 
have  a  great  deal  to  say  on  the  subject,  but  we 
have  to  go." 

Victoria  tried  to  tone  down  the  abruptness  of 
their  departure,  but  was  obviously  uneasy  and 
preoccupied.  The  poetess  seemed  disappointed. 
The  sudden  natural  outburst  of  Victoria's  ad 
miration  had  led  her  to  hope  for  one  of  the  rare 
sympathies  she  occasionally  inspired,  and  the 
pang  of  loneliness  that  followed  on  its  non-ful 
filment  lasted  long  after  "  The  Enchanted  Mesa  " 
had  completely  faded  from  Victoria's  mind.  Of 
such  strange  stuff  is  our  sensitiveness  made. 

As  the  friends  left  the  hubbub  of  the  tea,  and 
sought  the  shelter  of  Mrs.  Durham's  studio, 
neither  of  them  spoke.  It  was  not  until  the 
cigarette  had  gone  out  several  times  and  Vic 
toria  had  walked  the  floor  sturdily  for  some  half 
mile  that  the  flood-gates  were  opened.  During 
the  interval  Mrs.  Durham  settled  herself  in  one 
126 


WHITEWASH 

of  the  huge  leather  club  chairs  and  watched  her 
visitor  with  attention. 

"  Here  goes !  "  Victoria  broke  out  suddenly, 
flinging  herself  heavily  into  the  chair  opposite. 
She  plunged  into  the  story  of  the  Auray  robbery, 
described  the  Englishman  minutely,  the  countess 
and  her  jewels,  the  nurse's  story  and  its  con 
tradictions,  the  death  of  the  child,  the  fruitless 
efforts  of  the  police,  Sonia's  constant  annoyance 
at  being  called  upon  to  identify  arrested  persons 
bearing  no  possible  resemblance  to  the  criminal, 
her  own  return  to  America,  her  meeting  with 
Valdeck  and  her  difficulty  in  remembering  where 
she  had  seen  him  —  crowned  by  the  sudden  re 
vealing  glimpse  of  the  countess's  brooch  on  the 
breast  of  Philippa  Ford,  and  the  instant  flash 
of  recollection  that,  in  spite  of  the  change  of 
hair  and  the  disappearance  of  the  mustache, 
showed  her  the  mock  O'Farrell  in  Valdeck  the 
Pole. 

Her  friend  heard  her  out  without  interruption, 
proof  positive  of  a  most  unusual  female  intellect. 
When  at  last  Victoria  paused,  Mrs.  Durham 
began  tearing  the  edge  of  a  magazine  into  infini- 

127 


WHITEWASH 

tesimal  bits,  a  habit  she  frequently  indulged  in 
during  moments  of  concentration. 

"  First,  are  you  absolutely  sure  about  the  pin  ?  " 
she  asked,  presently,  more  as  an  opening  wedge 
than  a  question. 

"  Absolutely.'* 

"And  the  man?" 

"  Still  more  so  —  if  that  is  possible." 

"  Miss  Ford  said  it  had  belonged  to  her  mother. 
There  might  be  two  such  pins  in  the  world." 

Victoria  shook  her  head.  "  And  two  such 
men  —  no!  Besides,  Philippa  is  a  born  liar;  it 
isn't  even  second  nature  with  her,  it's  first  nature. 
She  didn't  want  me  to  think  she  had  accepted 
such  a  present  from  a  mere  acquaintance;  but 
I  have  known  her  to  take  as  much  and  more  from 
any  man  who  would  offer  it  to  her.  She  recog 
nizes  no  obligation  in  it.  She  sees  it  merely 
as  tribute  paid  to  her  superlative  beauty  and  wit. 
She  would  take  the  Kohinoor  from  the  devil  him 
self  ten  minutes  after  they  had  been  introduced." 

Mrs.  Durham  laughed.  "  It's  no  use  caution 
ing  her,  then,  concerning  Valdeck.  As  far  as  I 
can  see,  the  French  consul  is  the  person  for  you 
128 


WHITEWASH 

to  notify;  let  him  take  charge  of  the  case.  If 
it's  a  question  of  extradition,  it's  up  to  him; 
but  you  will  have  to  be  absolutely  sure  of  your 
quarry.  Where  is  Sonia?  " 

"  In  Paris." 

"  Do  you  think  he  recognized  you?  " 

Victoria  paused.  "  I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  If 
he  did,  he  hid  it  well.  But  I  noticed  that  he 
didn't  come  anywhere  near  me  after  he  once  saw 
me  staring  at  him,  and  I'm  morally  certain  that 
the  card  the  man  brought  Philippa  was  from  him, 
accounting  for  his  desertion  of  her,  and  making 
a  rendezvous.  Oh !  Philippa  would  go  anywhere 
if  you  made  the  situation  sufficiently  dramatic." 

"  Well,"  and  Mrs.  Durham  put  down  the  di 
lapidated  magazine,  "  I  wouldn't  fret,  dear.  To 
morrow  I'd  call  on  the  consul  and  lay  the  matter 
before  him.  He  will  probably  have  the  man 
watched,  perhaps  get  an  order  to  search  his 
apartments.  More  probably  he'll  do  nothing  at 
all  until  he  cables  to  the  chief  of  police.  If  the 
Vernon-Latours-what-you-may-call-ums  are  of 
sufficient  importance,  they'll  follow  the  matter  up, 
if  not,  they'll  drop  it  —  anyway,  you  will  have 

129 


WHITEWASH 

done  all  that  can  be  expected  of  you.  It's  a 
curious  coincidence,  though  —  I'll  use  it  in  my 
next  novel." 

The  mere  statement  of  the  case  had  relieved 
Victoria's  feelings,  the  events  sunk  to  their  proper 
proportion  with  reference  to  herself;  the  shock  of 
recognition  was  past,  and  the  world  was  pro 
ceeding  much  as  usual. 

"  I'm  glad  I  told  you  about  it,"  she  went  on. 
"  One  cannot  see  a  thing  in  one's  mind  as  clearly 
as  a  thing  taken  out,  concreted  and  put  into 
words;  it  then  becomes  an  entity  you  can  turn 
over  and  consider.  When  it's  jammed  inside 
your  skull  it  takes  up  all  the  available  room." 

She  stretched  herself  and  relaxed  with  the 
graceful  completeness  of  a  cat,  nerves  and  mus 
cles  let  down  from  their  tension. 

"  Anne,"  she  spoke  again,  "  I  now  understand 
why  you  keep  your  workroom  so  bare  and  plain. 
It  makes  one  clear  and  concise  in  thought.  I 
could  never  have  stated  my  case  so  quickly  — 
pardon  a  little  bouquet  that  I  throw  myself - 
or  so  well  at  Madame  Despard's,  for  instance. 


130 


WHITEWASH 

There  is  nothing  like  large,  bare  spaces  to  make 
one  clear-sighted  and  simple." 

Mrs.  Durham  rose  and  looked  at  her  watch. 
"  Perfectly  right,  my  dear  Victoria.  I've  often 
wanted  to  hire  a  prairie." 


CHAPTER    III. 

L  HILIPPA  thrust  Valdeck's  card  into  her 
bosom  as  she  left  the  studio,  and  with  a  beating 
heart  descended  to  her  rendezvous.  She  found 
Valdeck  apparently  absorbed  in  the  study  of  the 
index-board  in  the  lower  hall. 

"Were  you  recognized?"  she  asked,  in  her 
deepest  conspirator  voice. 

He  started.  "  No,  I  think  not,  and,  besides, 
he  really  knows  nothing,  but  I  am  anxious  to 
keep  away  from  all  possibly  hostile  observation." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Philippa,  rather  disappointed 
that  the  danger  was  not  more  imminent.  She 
glanced  at  him  sharply  as  they  emerged  into 
the  street,  and  her  quick  intuition  told  her  that 
Valdeck  had  been  more  disturbed  than  he  was 
willing  to  own.  "  You  are  not  telling  me  all," 
she  said,  reproachfully.  "  You  have  had  a  shock 
—  oh,  yes,  I  can  see  it !  you  can't  deceive  me  — 
132 


WHITEWASH 

and  can't  you  trust  me?  I  thought  you  said 
you  did,  implicitly." 

He  appeared  to  hesitate,  then  abruptly  signalled 
a  passing  hansom. 

"  You  will  drive  with  me,  Philippa?  "  he  said, 
with  sudden  authority.  "  I  will  tell  you,  but  we 
must  be  alone.  You  can  spare  me  an  hour?  It's 
now  half-past  five." 

Philippa  considered  a  moment.  "  Very  well. 
Tell  him  to  drive  round  the  Park;  it's  so  dark 
we  won't  be  noticed." 

She  stepped  lightly  into  the  carriage,  putting 
her  skirts  into  place  as  she  settled  back  and  affec 
tionately  making  room  for  him.  He  gave  his 
orders  and  leaped  in  beside  her  with  the  athletic 
ease  she  so  much  admired. 

"Now,  what  is  it?"  she  demanded,  as  the 
hansom  jerked  forward. 

"  Not  yet.  It's  a  horrid  story,  and  I  hate  to 
say  anything." 

"  Get  it  over  with  then,"  she  suggested,  archly. 

"  I  am  going  away  soon,"  he  said,  slowly, 
"  very  soon.  There  are  so  many  reasons  why  I 
should.  I  wonder  I  have  stayed  so  long.  Wis- 

133 


WHITEWASH 

dom  and  duty  bid  me  depart,  and  yet,  I  have  not 
the  courage  to  go." 

Philippa  experienced  one  of  the  few  real  sensa 
tions  of  her  life.  The  stab  of  this  announcement 
so  surprised  her  by  its  acute  pain  that  she  turned 
white  to  the  lips,  and  the  jarring  of  the  carriage 
having  displaced  her  hat,  she  did  not  think  to 
readjust  it  —  an  oversight  not  to  be  credited  by 
those  who  knew  her  well.  She  was  silent  a 
moment,  unwilling  to  trust  her  voice.  At  last 
she  moistened  her  lips  and  managed  to  ask 
"  Why?  "  with  a  poor  semblance  of  carelessness. 

"  First  my  work,  my  duty,  then  —  because  — 
as  you  must  have  realized,  dear,  —  because  I  love 
you,  and  I  must  not  interfere  with  your  life  and 
your  future.  I  have  nothing  to  offer ;  my  fortune 
is  pledged  to  the  cause.  I  am  practically  banished, 
I  live  a  life  of  forced  concealment  and  intrigue 
that  must  make  me  everywhere,  sooner  or  later, 
an  object  of  suspicion.  I  can  never  hope  for  any 
real  position  to  offer  you.  Besides,  I  have  made 
you  my  ideal.  I  want  to  see  you  realize  the  hopes 
I  have  of  you.  I  must  see  you  queen  among 
women,  the  courted,  feted,  admired  leader  of  your 
134 


WHITEWASH 

world.  You  will  marry  —  ah !  yes,  I  have  even 
dwelt  on  that,  and  it  must  be  with  one  who  will 
appreciate  you  and  surround  your  beautiful  body 
with  the  luxuries  it  deserves;  who  will  supply 
the  wants  of  your  wonderful  mind  with  the  best 
that  literature,  art,  and  social  intercourse  can 
offer;  who  will  give  you  the  opportunity  to 
develop  into  the  wonderful  woman  you  will  be 
—  for  you  are  yet  only  a  promise  of  what  I  hope 
for  you." 

He  paused  and  gazed  on  her  white  profile, 
softened  in  the  dusk  till  it  toned  into  the  dark 
background  like  some  delicately  painted  minia 
ture.  This  wholesale  burning  of  incense  at  her 
shrine  was  as  meat  and  drink  to  Philippa.  From 
any  man  it  would  have  been  welcome;  but  com 
ing  from  Valdeck  it  was  food  celestial.  More 
over,  a  sense  of  relief  filled  her.  She  would  not 
be  obliged  to  refuse  him;  he  was  advancing 
from  his  standpoint  the  arguments  she  might 
have  been  forced  gently  to  insinuate  into  his  mind 
from  hers.  All  she  had  to  do  now  was  play  her 
game,  a  beautiful,  heart-broken  game.  He  need 
not  know  or  guess  her  engagement  to  Morton 

135 


WHITEWASH 

Conway.  The  pang  of  his  announced  determina 
tion  to  depart  had  passed  away,  leaving  her  once 
more  her  old  calculating  self. 

But  he  wouldn't  go.  She  should  manage  that. 
Of  course  he  must  leave  sooner  or  later,  but 
later  —  much  later. 

He  took  her  hand  and  held  it.  She  did  not 
resist,  but  turned  her  blue  eyes  on  his. 

"  I  often  wonder,"  she  said,  softly,  "  whether 
it  would  have  been  better  had  we  never  met." 

He  entered  a  vigorous  protest.  "  No.  This 
meeting  is,  and  always  will  be,  the  crown  of  my 
life,  the  jewel  in  my  heart.  Whatever  the  cost, 
it  cannot  cost  too  much." 

A  long  silence  ensued  in  which  the  hansom 
jangled  gaily  through  the  dim  poem  of  the  twi 
light,  punctuated  at  intervals  by  the  staring  lamps 
of  the  driveway  or  the  passing  flash  of  carriage 
lights. 

"Will  you  do  me  a  great  favor?"  he  asked, 
suddenly.  "  Dine  with  me  to-night.  You  can 
manage  it;  I  know  you  can,  you  are  so  clever." 

Philippa   jumped.     "  Suppose  we  should   be 
seen?" 
136 


WHITEWASH 

"  I'll  manage  that,  if  you  will  trust  me." 

She  pressed  his  hand  gently.  "  Trust  you, 
of  course;  but  it's  awfully  improper." 

"  I  know  it's  not  conventional ;  that's  why 
I  called  it  a  great  favor.  But  I  can't  let  you 
go  yet,  dear.  You  see  I  have  no  ambitions  or 
hopes  for  myself,  only  for  you.  I  am  to  live 
by  the  crumbs  that  fall  from  the  rich  man's  table, 
only  by  such  scraps  of  your  time  as  you  will  throw 
to  me.  You  need  never  fear  that  I  shall  impor 
tune  you.  But  to-night  —  when  I  have  just  told 
you  my  secret,  when  you  have  been  so  kind  and 
patient  —  I  want  this  one  evening  with  you  to 
cherish  and  remember.  Just  to  break  bread  with 
you  alone,  to  clink  glasses  with  you  alone,  sit 
opposite  you,  as  if  I  had  the  right  to  sit  there 
always  —  yes,  just  to  hear  you  called  '  madame  ' 
by  the  waiter,"  he  laughed,  sadly. 

Philippa  hesitated.  "  Are  you  sure  we  won't 
be  seen  ?  " 

"  Positive !  Why,  I  would  give  my  life  sooner 
than  have  one  word  said  against  you,  and  I 
know  as  well  as  you  what  the  world  is.  The 
world  never  believes  in  a  pure  and  disinterested 

137 


WHITEWASH 

love  —  it  does  not  wish  to  —  it  has  itself  to 
excuse  by  the  faults  of  others." 

"How  true!"  she  murmured.  Then  she 
brightened  with  glee  at  thought  of  the  forbidden 
pleasure  of  the  tete-a-tete  dinner.  "  Listen.  Tell 
the  man  to  drive  to  —  West  57th  Street ;  that's 
Laura  Crosse's.  They  have  a  telephone.  I'll 
call  Aunt  Lucy  up  and  tell  her  I'm  staying  to 
dinner  and  going  to  the  play.  She'll  ask  to 
speak  to  Laura  to  verify  —  oh !  she's  horribly 
suspicious !  —  but  I'll  fix  Laura,  for  I've  helped 
her  out  lots  of  times  when  she  was  engaged 
to  Tom.  You  must  promise  to  get  me  home 
by  half-past  ten  or  eleven,  for  Auntie  is  going 
to  dine  at  the  Bishops',  and  she'll  be  home  early 
—  they  are  such  bores." 

"  You  are  the  best  girl  in  the  world."  His 
voice  choked  a  little.  "  I  shall  never  forget  your 
kindness  to  me,  a  poor  beggar  whom  you  hardly 
know  in  point  of  time." 

"  What  is  time? "  she  demanded,  with  fine 
scorn ;  "  only  what  we  make  it.  I  knew  you  as 
soon  as  I  saw  you.  I  am  never  mistaken  in 


138 


WHITEWASH 

character,  and  you  were  doubly  clear  to  me 
through  sympathy." 

He  pushed  up  the  little  door  of  communication 
with  the  driver,  and  gave  his  orders.  The  han 
som  paused,  wheeled,  and  started  off  once  more 
into  the  darkness.  The  rest  of  the  way  they 
said  little,  but  sat  staring  into  the  gloaming  world 
outside,  still  hand  in  hand,  till  the  glare  of  wink 
ing  arc  lights  startled  them  into  formality. 

In  the  excitement  of  the  declaration,  Philippa 
had  forgotten  the  trouble  he  had  promised  to 
reveal,  but  the  recollection  smote  her  and  she 
questioned  him  suddenly.  This  abruptness  of  at 
tack  was  the  result  of  years  of  experiment.  She 
had  discovered  that  by  firing  a  point-blank  ques 
tion  or  stating  a  good  guess  with  decision,  the 
truth  was  forthcoming  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten. 
The  questioned  persons  were  startled  either  into 
spoken  admissions  and  explanations,  or  they 
showed  symptoms  easy  for  a  shrewd  person  to 
interpret.  To  her  surprise  she  learned  nothing 
further  from  his  face  or  voice. 

"  Later,"  was  all  he  answered. 

If  there  had  been  any  wavering  in  her  decision 

139 


WHITEWASH 

to  dine  with  him,  it  was  past  now ;  her  curiosity 
had  pushed  down  the  balance  in  his  favor. 

The  cab  drew  up  before  a  handsome  house  at 
which  Philippa  glanced  knowingly,  collecting  her 
forces  before  going  into  action. 

"  Wait  round  the  corner,"  she  ordered,  as  she 
stepped  to  the  pavement  and  turned  to  mount 
the  wide  stone  steps. 

The  driver  obeyed,  and  Valdeck  laughed  si 
lently  as  he  noticed  the  force  of  habit  back  of 
the  command.  Evidently,  "  Wait  round  the  cor 
ner  "  was  a  familiar  phrase  with  this  Philippa. 

Meanwhile  the  object  of  his  plans  had  been 
admitted  to  the  elaborate  hall  by  an  elaborate 
butler  who  invited  her  to  be  seated  in  a  parlor 
whose  elaborateness  was  of  the  newest  and  most 
gorgeous  variety,  of  the  sort  that  secretly  filled 
Philippa  with  delight,  though  openly  she  pro 
fessed  to  scorn  the  upholsterer's  style  of  fur 
nishing  as  a  sort  of  Cook's  personally  conducted 
tour  in  house  decoration. 

Mrs.  Denison  entered,  all  smiles  and  rustle. 
She  matched  her  abode  perfectly  from  the  curled 
and  undulated  erection  of  her  pale  hair  to  the 
140 


WHITEWASH 

belaced  and  bejewelled  gray  brocade  of  her  tea- 
gown. 

"  My  dearest  girl!  "  she  exclaimed,  "are  you 
going  to  stay  to  dinner?  I'm  delighted.  You 
are  so  good  to  think  of  our  mourning  and  how 
housed  we  are." 

Philippa  embraced  her  friend  rapturously. 
"  How  sweet  you  do  look !  These  grays  and 
blacks  are  so  becoming.  You  ought  to  kill  off  an 
uncle  every  few  months." 

"  You  dreadful  girl !  "  smiled  Mrs.  Denison. 

"  But  I'm  not  going  to  dine  with  you  to-night, 
dear,"  Philippa  continued,  "  for  I  want  to  dine 
at  a  love  of  a  little  Bohemian  restaurant  —  oh, 
it's  quite  proper  —  with  a  party,  you  know,  but 
Aunt  Lucy  wouldn't  hear  of  it,  you  see.  So  I 
thought  you  might  let  me  telephone  from  here, 
and  tell  her  I  was  dining  with  you  —  won't  you, 
dear?  Auntie  is  such  a  stickler  for  etiquette, 
and  I  can't  make  her  understand  that  everybody 
nice  is  going  to  such  places  now." 

"  Why,  of  course,"  Mrs.  Denison  volunteered, 
completely  deceived  by  the  excuse.  "  I'll  tele 
phone  to  Mrs.  Ford  myself;  that  will  be  better 

141 


WHITEWASH 

yet.  But  do  come  in  and  dine  any  evening  when 
you  have  nothing  to  do.  It's  so  lonesome  all 
by  ourselves,  and  as  we  inherited  so  much  by 
old  Mr.  Ventimore's  will  we  positively  can't  go 
about,  it  looks  so  heartless." 

"  But  think  how  you  would  have  really 
mourned  if  he  hadn't  left  you  anything,  you 
ungrateful  girl!  You're  a  dear,  just  the  same, 
and  I'm  everlastingly  obliged  to  you.  You'll 
telephone  at  once,  won't  you  ?  Auntie  dines  with 
the  Bishops,  and  she'll  leave  the  house  by  seven, 
they  live  so  far  up-town." 

"  At  once,  of  course.  Run  on  and  have  a  good 
time,  dearie.  When  we  are  able  to  go  about, 
Tom  and  I  are  going  to  give  some  really  Bo 
hemian  things  ourselves,  a  tamale  party  or  a  cake- 
walk,  you  know;  so  get  all  the  points  you  can 
for  us." 

Mrs.  Denison  conducted  her  guest  to  the  por 
tieres,  where  the  elaborate  butler  took  her  in 
hand  and  ceremoniously  opened  the  doors  as  she 
passed  out.  She  walked  decorously  down  the  steps 
till  she  heard  the  bang  of  both  doors;  then  she 
hurried  with  joyful  anticipation  to  the  waiting 
142 


WHITEWASH 

carriage.  She  jumped  in  gaily  and  settled  her 
self. 

"  I've  fixed  it,"  she  announced,  with  childish 
delight. 

Valdeck  looked  his  thanks,  and  called  to  the 
driver,  who  awaited  instructions.  "  To  Ga- 
gano's." 

Philippa  started.  "  Oh !  "  she  asked,  "  do  you 
think  that's  quite  safe?" 

He  nodded.  "  Quite.  We'll  have  a  private 
room,  and  I'll  manage  it  so  you  won't  be  seen." 

The  hansom  rattled  on,  taking,  by  his  direction, 
an  unfashionable,  smaller  vein  in  the  city's  sys 
tem  of  circulation,  in  preference  to  the  greater 
and  more  frequented  arteries.  Philippa  had  by 
this  time  turned  to  her  muttons  with  intent  to 
shear  to  the  very  last  thread  of  wool.  Curiosity 
stalked  hungry  through  her  mind. 

"  Do  tell  me  what  was  wrong.  It  troubles 
me  to  see  you  troubled,  and  we  must  get  it  over 
with ;  otherwise  it  will  lie  between  us  and  make 
us  both  uncomfortable." 

He  was  not  ready  to  divulge,  and  turned  to 
his  love  for  her  and  descriptions  of  her  loveliness 

143 


WHITEWASH 

and  how  it  affected  him  —  divining  that  her  own 
adored  person  was  the  only  subject  likely  to  dis 
tract  her  curiosity.  In  this  he  sufficiently  ab 
sorbed  her  till  the  cab  turned  down  a  quiet  side 
street  and  drew  up  before  an  unpretentious  door, 
over  which  an  illuminated  sign  announced  "  Ga- 
gano's  Restaurant." 

Delighted  excitement  thrilled  Philippa  as  she 
pulled  up  her  collar  and  drew  down  her  hat,  with 
the  traditional  gestures  of  disguise. 

Valdeck  restrained  her  as  she  gathered  her 
belongings  preparatory  to  alighting.  "  Stay 
here,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  I'll  go  up  and  arrange 
so  you  won't  have  to  wait  in  hallways."  He  paid 
the  driver,  ran  up  the  steps,  and  disappeared  be 
tween  the  ground-glass  doors. 

Several  minutes  elapsed,  during  which  Philippa, 
from  the  darkness  of  her  shelter,  looked  out  with 
fear  and  curiosity  at  the  men  and  women  who 
passed  in  the  street  or  hurried  into  the  restaurant. 
At  last  Valdeck  came  rapidly  down  the  steps, 
glancing  sharply  up  and  down  the  street  as  he 
did  so,  assisted  her  to  alight,  and  escorted  her 
into  the  house.  A  narrow  corridor  opened  before 
144 


WHITEWASH 

her,  stairs  loomed  upward,  with  an  obsequious 
waiter  bowing  on  the  landing.  A  door  to  the 
right  gave  a  glimpse  of  the  main  dining-room. 
It  stood  ajar,  and,  annoyed  at  the  oversight,  she 
turned  her  face  away,  and  fled  up  the  stairs.  The 
floor  above  showed  another  narrow  hall,  where 
busy  servants  ran  to  and  fro.  To  Philippa  it  was 
all  evil  and  mysterious,  and  filled  her  with  de 
lighted  trepidation.  The  sound  of  smothered 
laughter,  the  faint  chink  of  glasses  and  plates, 
the  sight  of  champagne  bottles  cooling  in  the 
silver-plated  buckets  on  the  floor,  —  all  impressed 
her  with  a  sense  of  delicious  naughtiness.  The 
obsequious  waiter  ushered  them  into  a  tiny  room, 
and  discreetly  closed  the  door. 

Philippa  looked  about  her  with  interest.  Before 
her  stood  a  table,  neatly  set  for  two,  adorned  with 
a  scanty  bunch  of  carnations.  Everything  was 
worn.  The  mirror  was  scratched,  the  velvet  of 
the  upholstery  showed  the  nap,  the  carpet  was 
dulled  by  the  frequent  upsetting  of  viands.  The 
air  was  hot,  the  only  ventilation  being  a  small 
electric  fan,  now  motionless,  fixed  in  one  corner 
near  the  lights.  A  room  attractive  and  repellent 

145 


WHITEWASH 

enough,  but  to  Philippa,  soaked  in  French  novels, 
it  was  the  realization  of  the  baleful  and  belauded 
cabinet  particidier.  Valdeck  apologized  for  the 
shabbiness  of  his  hospitality,  but  pointed  out  the 
fact  that  a  meeting  with  any  of  their  acquaint 
ances  would  be  practically  out  of  the  question. 

The  waiter,  after  discreetly  knocking,  entered 
with  cocktails  on  a  silver  waiter,  and  presented 
the  bill  of  fare  and  wine-card  with  a  gesture 
worthy  of  Lord  Chesterfield. 

Valdeck  acquitted  himself  of  the  task  of  selec 
tion,  ordered  the  champagne  to  be  brut  and 
frappe,  and  by  his  evident  knowledge  of  things 
culinary,  went  up  several  points  in  his  guest's 
estimation. 

Left  alone  once  more,  he  seated  Philippa  on  the 
divan,  took  his  place  on  the  chair  opposite,  per 
suaded  her  to  remove  not  only  her  wraps  but  her 
hat,  and  showed  himself  a  thoughtful  and  atten 
tive  host.  Presenting  her  with  the  cocktail,  he 
bowed  gravely. 

"  A  vos  beaux  yeux,"  he  murmured,  tenderly. 

She  drank  the  beverage,  and  as  its  glow  began 


146 


WHITEWASH 

to  course  through  her  veins,  she  raised  her  smil 
ing  eyes  to  his. 

"  What  would  our  friends  think  of  this?  "  she 
asked,  again  with  that  delightful  ingenue  blush 
of  hers. 

"Just  at  present  I  don't  in  the  least  care,"  he 
answered,  gaily ;  "  but  I  promise  you  they  won't 
be  able  to  say  anything." 

The  waiter  appeared  with  oysters. 

"  Are  you  still  determined  to  go  away  ?  "  she 
asked,  after  a  moment's  silence. 

"  I  ought  to  —  "    he  answered,  uncertainly. 

"  But  that's  not  the  question.  Are  you,  I 
said  ? "  and  she  raised  her  violet  eyes  to  his 
face,  half-wistful,  half-mocking. 

"  To  explain  just  why,"  he  said,  gravely,  "  I 
must  tell  you.  I  was  taken  aback  when  I  saw 
you  this  afternoon  sitting  with  a  girl  I  never 
expected  to  see  again,  a  girl  whom  I  saw  last 
in  Europe ;  whose  gray  eyes  I  shall  never  forget." 

Philippa  dropped  her  oyster-fork,  and  her  eyes 
dilated. 

"  Victoria  Claudel !  For  goodness  sake,  what 
do  you  mean  ?  " 

147 


WHITEWASH 

He  appeared  to  hesitate,  and  the  conversation 
ceased  as  the  servant  served  the  soup. 

"  My  dear  girl,"  he  resumed,  after  a  moment, 
"  I  must,  to  protect  myself  and  your  good  opinion 
of  me,  do  a  thing  that  is  considered,  and  rightly 
considered,  dastardly  among  men.  I  must  speak 
ill  of  a  woman  to  whom  I  am  indebted,  more  than 
indebted." 

Philippa  turned  scarlet,  her  heart  beat  heavily. 
Here,  indeed,  was  a  dramatic  situation. 

"  She  is,  I  know,  from  your  manner  toward 
her,  your  very  dear  friend,"  he  went  on,  "  and 
you  must  not  only  forgive  me  for  what  I  have 
to  say,  but  both  for  my  sake  and  hers,  promise 
me  the  most  rigid  secrecy,  the  most  absolute 
silence  —  " 

"  I  swear !  "  said  Philippa,  her  cheeks  crim 
soning  with  excitement. 

"  —  even  to  her.  She  must  not  know  that  I 
have  told  you.  But  I  know  what  a  woman's 
jealousy  can  be  and  is.  I  know  that  Victoria 
would  do  all  in  her  power  to  harm  me.  She  is 
vindictive  beyond  belief,  and  all  her  intelligence, 
her  strength  and  will  go  into  her  plans.  I  do  not 
148 


WHITEWASH 

know  that  she  followed  me,  but  I  fear  it.  Now 
that  she  has  found  me,  she  undoubtedly  will  do 
her  best  to  oust  me  from  my  position  here.  What 
stories  she  will  circulate  I  cannot  guess  as  yet; 
but  I  know  from  past  experience  what  she  can 
do.  Has  not  one  of  your  poets  said,  '  Hell  hath 
no  fury  like  a  woman  scorned  '  ?  And  to  you, 
Philippa,  to  you  she  will  certainly  come  with  her 
accusations,  for  she  will  inevitably  see  that  you 
have  absorbed  my  life.  Whatever  I  am,  whatever 
I  may  have  been,  you  know  that  you  are  my 
love,  my  only  love,  and  I  cannot  bear  that  she 
should  turn  you  from  me." 

Philippa  was  splendid.  Holding  out  her  hand 
across  the  table,  she  took  his  in  a  firm  and  friendly 
grasp.  '  You  were  right  to  trust  me  with  your 
secret.  She  cannot  hurt  you  in  my  eyes.  But 
what  shall  we  do  if  she  -tries  to  circulate  anything 
against  you  among  others?  She  has  the  advan 
tage  —  she  is  known  here,  you  are  not.  You 
cannot  tell  the  reason  of  her  hatred  of  you ;  that 
would  be  unforgivable  in  every  one's  eyes.  Yet 
if  you  go  away  she  may  wither  your  reputation 
at  her  ease." 

149 


WHITEWASH 

"  If  you  stand  my  friend,"  he  went  on,  "  it 
is  all  I  ask  of  fate." 

"  But  she  must  not  injure  you." 

Again  the  waiter  interrupted,  but  Philippa  was 
beyond  paying  any  attention  to  his  presence. 
Valdeck  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  It  can't  be  helped,  unless,  perhaps,  you  find 
out  and  tell  me  in  what  direction  her  enmity  will 
show  itself.  I  might  plan  to  meet  it.  But  that 
would  entail  too  much  on  you.  You  could  never 
play  the  ignorant;  let  her  confide  in  you  and 
show  her  hand.  You  are  too  open  and  clear  a 
nature  to  meet  the  wiles  of  a  woman  of  her 
stamp." 

"  Indeed  I  can  —  trust  me.  I'll  know  every 
plan,  I'll  fathom  her  every  thought,  I'll  not  leave 
her  for  a  moment.  If  she  doesn't  come  directly 
to  me,  and  she  is  quite  clever  enough  to  work 
through  other  people,  if  she  imagines  I  know 
anything  or  suspect  her  honesty,  why,  then 
I'll  go  to  her.  I'll  give  you  my  word  that  you 
shall  know  just  what  is  afoot  as  soon  as  she 
does  herself.  It  will  be  a  little  thing  to  do  in 
return  for  your  friendship." 
150 


WHITEWASH 

Valdeck  lost  himself  in  a  maze  of  thanks  and 
adoring  admiration. 

"  Isn't  it  strange,"  she  murmured,  "  isn't  it 
wonderful,  that  things  should  work  out  this  way  ? 
I  understand  it  all  now.  She  pretended  to  be 
puzzled  as  to  where  she  had  seen  you  before  — 
asked  me  who  you  were,  to  sound  me,  you  see, 
concerning  our  relations.  She  seemed  absent- 
minded  and  ill  at  ease.  And  then,  when  I  left 
her,  she  happened  to  see  the  pin  you  gave  me. 
She  was  really  overcome,  turned  pale,  and  fairly 
shook  me,  demanding  where  I  got  it." 

"  Yes,"  he  nodded,  reminiscently.  "  She  knew 
how  much  I  thought  of  that  trinket.  I  remem 
ber  she  once  asked  me  to  let  her  wear  it,  and 
I  refused.  She  never  quite  forgave  me.  Of 
course  when  she  saw  it  in  your  possession  she 
was  enraged.  What  did  you  say?  " 

Philippa  colored.  "  Well,  I  couldn't  tell  her 
the  truth,  you  know.  I  said  it  was  an  old  thing 
of  my  mother's,  but  I  saw  she  knew  better." 

He  laughed,  shortly.  "  Knew  better !  "  In 
wardly  he  congratulated  himself  on  his  judgment 
in  taking  the  bull  by  the  horns.  He  was  certain 


WHITEWASH 

now  to  be  informed  of  whatever  danger  threat 
ened  him,  of  what  steps  would  be  taken.  Another 
week,  and  it  made  little  difference  what  came  out. 
Till  then  he  must  play  the  game  carefully.  He 
looked  at  Philippa,  and  felt  grateful  to  his  lucky 
stars  that  she  was  so  fair  to  look  on  and  so 
pliable  to  his  will.  It  enabled  him  to  throw 
himself  heartily  into  his  part.  He  always  was 
fortunate  with  his  women  confederates,  conscious 
or  unconscious,  he  commented.  There  was  Eu 
genia,  what  a  jewel  the  woman  was.  It  was 
unfortunate  that  the  police  had  suspected  her, 
it  prevented  his  seeing  her  as  often  as  he  would 
like. 

Squab  and   salad   were   served,   and   Valdeck 
came  over  to  the  divan  and  sat  beside  Philippa. 

"  Let's  drop  all  this  for  the  present,"  he  said, 
gently  taking  her  hand ;  "  let's  talk  of  you,  it's 
a  pleasanter  subject;  only  tell  me  that  this  con 
fidence  hasn't  completely  barred  me  from  your 
respect.  What  can  you  know  of  a  man's  life 
and  temptations !  "  He  bowed  his  head  on  his 
free  hand  and  looked  gloomily  into  the  mirror 
opposite. 
152 


WHITEWASH 

She  followed  his  glance  and  gazed  approval  on 
their  common  reflections.  How  handsome  he 
was!  and  how  well  she  was  looking  herself! 
The  wine  and  excitement  had  flushed  her  cheeks 
and  lighted  her  eyes  with  a  starry  radiance; 
a  dew  of  perspiration  had  dampened  her  hair  and 
ruffled  it  into  soft  curls.  Her  satisfaction  in 
her  own  appearance  made  her  the  more  ready 
to  admire  him,  made  her  the  more  lenient  to 
his  avowed  fault;  besides,  what  woman  ever 
scorns  to  triumph  over  a  rival  in  any  man's 
estimation  ? 

"  A  woman's  intuition  permits  her  to  divine 
conditions  that  are  not  actually  within  her  expe 
rience,"  she  answered,  softly,  sipping  the  glass 
of  champagne  before  her  with  grave  apprecia 
tion,  "  and  I  think  I  can  fairly  say  that  you  have 
not  fallen  in  my  estimation.  One  learns,"  and 
here  Philippa  looked  vastly  worldly-wise  and  bit 
ter,  "  not  to  expect  a  man's  life  to  be  as  spotless 
as  a  woman's,  or  even  a  woman's  as  spotless  as 
it  ought  to  be.  I  must  own,  though,  that  what 
you  tell  me  of  Victoria  would  surprise  most  of 
her  friends  more  than  it  does  me.  I  have  never 

153 


WHITEWASH 

quite  held  her  in  my  esteem  to  the  point  of  abso 
lute  trust.  There  is  a  suggestion  of  defiance  in 
her  Bohemianism.  She  permits  herself  liberties 
that  are  not  wise.  She  lunches  with  any  man 
she  likes,  whenever  she  pleases,  in  the  most  public 
places.  I  often  used  to  speak  to  her  about  it, 
and  she  always  resented  it,  maintaining  that  as 
long  as  a  woman  stayed  in  broad  daylight, 
and  in  a  public  place,  she  was  sufficiently  chap 
eroned.  But  such  things  show  a  disregard  of 
public  opinion  that  sooner  or  later  leads  to  graver 
offences,  not  only  against  the  laws  of  convention, 
but  against  the  laws  of  God." 

Valdeck  hid  a  smile  with  his  serviette.  She 
was  too  delicious,  this  girl.  His  curiosity  began 
to  rise  concerning  this  Victoria  whose  character 
he  had  just  destroyed.  Evidently  she  was  a 
woman  of  independence  and  intelligence.  It  was 
rather  a  pity  to  spoil  her  reputation;  but  it  had 
to  be  done.  Besides,  he  reflected,  was  it  not  a 
custom  current  in  society,  was  it  not  sufficient  to 
justify  any  calumny,  that  the  person  thus  pun 
ished  should  happen  to  know  things  derogatory 


154 


WHITEWASH 

to  the  calumniator  ?  "  The  greater  the  truth  the 
greater  the  libel  "  works  more  ways  than  one. 

"  Philippa,"  he  said,  apparently  coming  out  of 
a  brown  study,  "  you  are  the  sweetest,  dearest 
woman  in  the  world.  I  shall  never  forget  your 
kindness  and  charity,  as  I  can  never  forget  your 
loveliness  and  truth.  My  lady  of  goodness!  I 
believe  there  is  not  another  such  combination  of 
beauty,  brains,  and  sincerity  on  the  face  of  the 
earth."  "  How  she  swallowed  it  all !  "  he  added  to 
himself. 

She  drew  out  her  tiny  jewelled  watch  and 
glanced  at  it  with  a  pout.  "  We  must  go  soon," 
she  murmured,  reluctantly.  "  Aunt  Lucy  keeps 
such  close  count  of  my  every  moment,  and  "  — 
she  turned  her  innocent  eyes  to  his  face  —  "I 
do  so  hate  deception." 

"  And  she  really  believes  it,"  he  thought,  de 
lightedly;  "she  honestly  thinks  herself  the  soul 
of  truth!" 

"  Not  yet,"  he  begged  aloud ;  "  a  few  moments 
more  or  less  count  very  little  to  Aunt  Lucy,  while 
to  me  —  you  don't  realize  what  they  are  to  me! 


155 


WHITEWASH 

And  when  shall  I  see  you  again?  To-morrow? 
where?  " 

Philippa  remembered  with  annoyance  that  Mor 
ton  Conway  was  coming  to  take  her  driving  in 
the  afternoon.  She  couldn't  very  well  refuse.  She 
had  a  luncheon  engagement,  and  dressmaker's  in 
the  morning,  dinner  and  theatre-party  at  the 
Wellsleys  —  oh,  dear !  The  dressmaker  would 
have  to  wait. 

"  I'll  go  over  to  Victoria's  early  in  the  morn 
ing,"  she  said,  slowly,  "  about  ten  —  I  can't  very 
well  go  earlier.  I'll  make  her  tell  me  what  she 
intends  to  do,  and  —  let  me  see  —  suppose  you 
wait  in  the  Turkish  room  at  the  Waldorf,  at 
twelve.  If  by  any  chance  I  should  be  detained, 
I'll  call  you  up  on  the  telephone  at  half  after. 
I'll  be  there,  though,"  she  added,  looking  her 
sweetest. 

"  You  are  so  good !  "  he  said  again.  "  Now 
that  I  have  the  assurance  that  you  will  not  believe 
anything  that  will  be  said  against  me,  —  now 
that  you  know  the  very  worst  that  can  be  said 
with  truth,  I  can't  tell  you  how  relieved  I  am. 
Confession  lightens  one's  load  wonderfully.  The 
156 


WHITEWASH 

Catholic  doctrine  is  founded  on  a  real  human 
need.  If  every  one  loved  God  as  I  love  you  —  " 

"  Oh !  "  cried  Philippa,  interrupting  with  al 
most  terrified  emphasis ;  "  don't,  don't  say  such 
things  —  to  compare  me  with  the  Deity !  " 

She  was  genuinely  shocked,  for  Philippa  was 
very  devout  on  Sundays  and  in  Lent. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  begged,  humbly.  "  I  did 
not  mean  to  hurt  your  beautiful  faith.  Unfor 
tunately,  I  can  believe  in  nothing  —  only  in  you 
and  my  duty  to  my  fellow  man." 

She  was  not  displeased.  Atheism  sat  not  unbe 
comingly  on  manly  shoulders,  though  to  her  think 
ing  it  was  to  the  last  degree  bad  form  in  a  woman. 
Religion,  like  one's  evening  dress,  was  the  proper 
thing  and  indispensable  for  certain  occasions, 
though  she  attributed  her  religious  fervor  to  quite 
different  emotions. 

The  more  Valdeck  turned  the  leaves  of  his 
companion's  character,  the  greater  was  his  amuse 
ment.  It  was  like  reading  some  written  study  of 
the  ultrafeminine.  It  might  be  worth  one's  trouble 
to  sketch  out  a  romance  with  her  for  the  sake 
of  watching  her  clockwork.  But  time  pressed ; 

157 


WHITEWASH 

another  week  and  he  would  have  dropped  from 
this  crude  sphere  as  completely  as  if  he  had  never 
existed  —  to  reincarnate  himself  under  another 
name,  in  another  country,  and  build  up  an  excel 
lent  reputation  that  would  shield  the  sources  of 
his  wealth,  if  all  went  well. 

Philippa  rose,  and  began  the  various  adjust 
ments  of  hairpins  and  garments,  always  premoni 
tory  of  her  going  forth. 

"Must  you  go  now?"  he  asked.  "I  won't 
tease ;  you  know  best  —  but  must  you  ?  " 

She  nodded,  almost  sadly. 

He  bowed  his  head  in  acquiescence  to  the  inevi 
table,  and  rang  the  bell  for  the  waiter.  Hastily 
settling  his  bill,  he  turned  to  her  once  more. 
She  was  carefully  prodding  her  hat  with  a  topaz- 
headed  pin,  as  she  studied  her  face  in  the  glass. 
He  crossed  over  and  stood  beside  her.  She  thrilled 
with  his  presence. 

"  You  are  so  beautiful !  "  he  whispered.  "  May 
I  ? "  And  before  she  could  protest  he  folded 
her  in  his  arms,  turned  her  flushed  face  to  his, 
and  kissed  her  on  the  mouth. 

For  an  instant  she  yielded  to  his  arm,  resting 
158 


WHITEWASH 

her  head  on  his  breast  for  the  infinitesimal  frac 
tion  of  a  second.  A  quivering  delight  mounted 
from  her  heart  and  dimmed  her  eyes.  But  in  a 
moment  she  was  herself  again. 

"  Mr.  Valdeck !  "  she  said,  severely.  "  And  I 
trusted  you  in  coming  here !  " 

The  tone  was  perfect.  "  Just  as  if  she  hadn't 
been  waiting  for  that  all  the  evening,"  he  thought, 
admiringly.  "  She's  a  genius."  He  kept  silent, 
only  looking  at  her  with  humble,  dog-like  eyes, 
as  a  hound  reproved  for  showing  too  much  ex 
uberance  of  affection. 

With  a  petulant  movement  she  caught  up  her 
jacket,  pouted,  smiled,  looked  at  him  and  then 
at  it,  and  finally  held  it  out  with  an  inimitable 
gesture  of  amused  reluctance. 

11  You'll  have  to  help  me  into  it,  I  suppose." 

He  sprang  forward,  took  the  outstretched  gar 
ment  and  clasped  it  fondly. 

"  No,  no,  it  isn't  for  you  to  keep,"  she  laughed. 

The  operation  of  getting  into  the  wrap  was 
prolonged,  and  difficult,  numerous  hooks  had  to 
be  attended  to  and  sleeves  smoothed,  to  all  of 
which  Philippa  laughingly  submitted,  unconscious 

159 


WHITEWASH 

of  the  deft  unfastening  of  her  treasured  jewel, 
and  its  sudden  disappearance  down  a  concealing 
sleeve.  At  the  door  he  took  her  hand  and  kissed 
it  fervently. 

"  Let  me  go  first,  dear,"  he  said,  passing  in 
front.  "  I  want  to  see  if  the  coast  is  clear.  I 
told  the  waiter  to  call  a  cab." 

Feeling  more  deliciously  wicked  than  ever, 
Philippa  crept  through  the  hall  and  down  the 
stairs.  All  was  quiet,  and  with  the  glee  of  a 
schoolboy  who  successfully  carries  out  a  danger 
ous  prank,  she  sprang  into  the  waiting  carriage. 


1 60 


CHAPTER    IV. 

MRS.  DURHAM  opened  the  door  to  Vic 
toria's  familiar  knock.  "Well?"  she  said,  re 
moving  a  thick  cork  penholder  from  her  mouth. 
She  wore  a  gingham  apron  plentifully  besprinkled 
with  ink-stains,  and  her  hair  showed  signs  of  her 
recent  labors. 

Victoria  threw  down  her  muff  and  slung  her 
fur  collar  across  the  room.  "  I  saw  the  consul, 
and  he  has  taken  the  matter  up;  but  it  seems 
there  is  red  tape  enough  to  strangle  us  all.  I'm 
sorry  I  ever  touched  the  thing." 

"  What  is  he  going  to  do?  " 

Victoria  subsided  into  a  chair.  "  About  what 
you  suggested.  He  is  going  to  cable  to  half  a 
dozen  proper  authorities,  —  have  Valdeck  shad 
owed  if  they  think  best.  I  suggested  having  his 
rooms  searched,  but  there  are  all  sorts  of  difficul 
ties.  He's  a  Russian  subject,  or  claims  to  be; 

161 


WHITEWASH 

the  consul  intimated  all  sorts  of  horrifying  inter 
national  complications.  He  seemed  disgusted  that 
I  brought  the  thing  to  him,  and  I  must  confess 
I'm  sorry  I  did.  If  I  hadn't  seen  that  child  die, 
I  don't  think  I  should  have  touched  it,  but  — 
well,  it's  done  now ;  the  machinery  is  going." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Durham,  whirling  about  in 
her  office  chair ;  "  it  now  remains  to  be  seen 
who  will  be  drawn  in,  and  what  sort  of  a  sausage 
will  be  the  result." 

"  I'm  inclined  to  think  I  shall  season  it  largely 
myself,"  Victoria  answered,  ruefully.  "  Philippa 
is  going  to  make  it  warm  for  me  when  she  finds 
herself  dragged  in  by  the  ears  —  the  brooch, 
I  mean,  with  her  pathetic  little  story  about  dear 
mother's  heirloom,  too." 

Mrs.  Durham  chuckled,  but  sobered  suddenly. 
"  Be  very  careful,"  she  advised,  "  how  you  go 
about  that.  She  would  be  an  unpleasant  enemy. 
She,  as  the  challenged  party,  has  the  choice  of 
weapons,  and  unless  I  vastly  misjudge  her,  they 
will  be  of  a  type  that  you  wouldn't  soil  your 
hands  with." 

"  I  know  it.  Oh,  why  didn't  you  head  me  off? 
162 


WHITEWASH 

I'll  get  myself  and  every  one  else  into  a  hornet's 
nest." 

"  Because,  dear,  I  believe  that  dangerous  ani 
mals  should  not  be  left  at  large;  such  creatures 
owe  their  immunity  to  the  trouble  they  give  lazy 
hunters." 

"  And  besides,"  added  Victoria,  "  it  isn't  your 
fight,  and  it  will  be  entertaining  to  watch." 

Mrs.  Durham  swung  completely  about  and 
faced  her  friend.  "  You  have  such  a  disagreeable 
little  way  of  dragging  the  Sunday  clothes  off 
my  rag  doll,  but  it's  invaluable  from  a  literary 
standpoint." 

"  Apparently  I'm  to  be  a  sort  of  god  from  the 
machine  for  every  one's  benefit  but  my  own," 
murmured  Victoria.  "  But  the  Philippa  question 
is  serious." 

A  knock  at  the  door  startled  them  both,  and 
Victoria  rose  reluctantly  to  answer  the  summons. 

"  Good  morning,  dear,"  a  well-known  voice 
trilled,  gaily.  "  I  stopped  in  early,  as  you  told 
me  you  were  always  home.  May  I  come  in,  or 
do  I  disturb?" 


163 


WHITEWASH 

"  We  were  just  talking  of  you."  Victoria's 
expression  was  composite. 

"  Speaking  of  angels,"  Mrs.  Durham  added, 
rising  to  greet  their  visitor. 

Philippa  entered,  more  gorgeous  than  ever, 
rustling  aggressively  in  her  silk  petticoats.  Her 
light  tan  cloth  gown,  with  its  cleverly  combined 
touches  of  gold  and  brown,  set  off  her  blonde 
prettiness  to  perfection.  She  felt  a  glow  of  pleas 
ure  as  she  noted  Victoria's  dishevelled  appearance, 
and  the  bespattered  apron  that  concealed  Mrs. 
Durham's  graceful  figure.  She  regarded  her 
friend  with  a  new  and  cruel  interest,  bred  of 
the  last-night  confidences.  It  was  delightful  to 
feel  that  she  held  this  girl's  reputation  in  the 
hollow  of  her  hand  —  this  girl  who  had  let  her 
read  scorn  of  her,  Philippa's,  life  and  character 
—  the  girl  whose  appearance  had  forced  her  to 
hedge  and  definitely  engage  herself  when  she  had 
other  more  interesting  occupations.  Truly,  it  was 
a  sweet  morsel.  Her  musings  gave  her  an  ex 
pression,  half-sweet,  half-sinister,  and  added  a 
new  tone  of  superiority  to  her  voice.  Victoria 


164 


WHITEWASH 

was  instantly  conscious  of  the  change,  but  was 
too  full  of  her  story  to  wonder  at  its  origin. 

The  talk  drifted  on  to  indifferent  topics  as  Mrs. 
Durham  kept  the  ball  rolling  on  things  operatic 
and  literary.  Then  she  rose,  excusing  herself 
gracefully  on  the  plea  of  work,  and  left  the  friends 
alone.  Victoria  plunged  into  the  subject  next 
her  consciousness. 

"  I  hope,"  she  said,  "  you  won't  be  angry,  but 
I've  something  to  say  about  that  pin  you  had  on 
yesterday." 

Philippa's  face  showed  a  kaleidoscope  of  ex 
pressions,  but  a  painful  recollection  dominated. 

"  Do  you  know,  Victoria,  I  lost  it  —  I  can't 
imagine  how.  I  was  dining  last  night  at  the 
Denisons',  and  when  I  got  home,  it  was  gone. 
I  can't  imagine  how;  the  fastening  was  secure. 
I  must  have  pulled  it  off  with  my  wraps.  I'm 
heartbroken  over  it !  " 

"  Lost !  "  cried  Victoria,  aghast,  seeing  the  one 
plank  of  her  proof  against  Valdeck  disappear 
into  thin  air.  She  looked  sharply  at  her  friend. 
For  once  she  did  not  question  the  truth  of  her 
statement;  the  chagrin  was  genuine.  "It  must 

165 


WHITEWASH 

be  found!"  she  ejaculated,  sharply.  "It  must! 
You  see  "  —  and  she  floundered  into  her  explana 
tions  —  "I  know  more  about  that  pin  than  you 
can  guess.  I  know  that  Mr.  Valdeck  gave  it  to 
you;  I'll  tell  you  all.  Of  course,  you  couldn't 
very  well  tell  me  before  everybody  at  the  tea ; 
I  understood  that  perfectly.  I  admired  the  quick 
way  you  turned  it  off,  and  I  ought  to  have  had 
more  tact  than  to  blurt  out  such  a  question  — 
but  that's  just  like  me." 

Philippa  played  amazement.  "  Why,  Vic,  what 
are  you  talking  about?  Are  you  insane?  " 

"  I'm  going  to  tell  you  the  whole  story,"  Vic 
toria  went  on,  disregarding  the  interruption,  "  and 
let  you  judge  for  yourself." 

Philippa's  thoughts  during  the  recital  were  a 
series  of  repressed  exclamations.  "  Heavens ! 
she's  accusing  him  of  burglary!  Did  one  ever 
hear  of  such  vindictiveness !  Lucius  was  right ; 
she's  a  danger  in  petticoats !  What  a  horrible  lie ! 
Oh!  it's  murder  now!  What  next,  I  wonder! 
The  wickedness  of  it !  She's  overstepping  herself ; 
nobody  will  believe  that.  Can  such  women  live, 
to  play  with  a  man's  life  and  character  like  that? 
1 66 


E      W      A      S      H 


She'd  ruin  him  for  vengeance!  And  the  calm 
of  her!  She'll  go  to  any  length.  Poor  Lucius! 
How  wise  he  was  to  tell  me!"  And  running 
in  and  out  of  these  comments,  like  an  arabesque 
movement  in  a  Persian  rug,  stood  the  Pharisee's 
thankfulness  in  every  tone  and  variation.  Never 
had  Philippa  felt  more  virtuous  than  now  as  she 
beheld  the  iniquities  of  her  friend's  character  in 
all  their  blackness.  Yet  she  must  contain  her 
righteous  indignation  if  she  was  to  save  Valdeck 
from  the  net  that  would  be  cast  about  him. 

Victoria's  story  reached  its  climax.  Philippa's 
mental  exclamation  points  multiplied.  His 
mother's  pin  that  he  gave  me  out  of  his  great 
love  of  me  a  part  of  the  plunder!  What  won't 
she  say !  The  very  idea !  She  ought  to  be  buried 
alive  for  such  infamy.  Never  mind,  a  day  of 
retribution  will  come,  and  the  dispensing  hand 
of  justice  may  be  the  small  white-gloved  one 
lying  here  so  meekly.  She  looked  at  the  hand 
meditatively. 

"What  will  you  do?"  she  asked,  at  length, 
"  for,  of  course,  you  will  have  to  prove  such  a 
remarkable  story." 

167 


WHITEWASH 

Victoria  described  her  visit  to  the  French  con 
sulate,  and  the  measures  that  would  probably  be 
taken. 

Her  listener's  heart  stopped  beating. 

Detectives!  A  search!  Impossible!  The 
whole  villainous  plot  was  clear  as  day.  Evidently 
Victoria  knew  of  Valdeck's  secret  connection  with 
the  Polish  Educational  League.  The  money  he 
was  collecting  he  would  be  unable  to  explain  with 
out  implicating  himself  and  the  generous  patriots, 
without  putting  himself  and  them  practically  into 
the  power  of  the  Russian  secret  police.  Valdeck 
had  assured  her  that  even  in  America  there  was 
no  safety  once  their  positions  were  well  authenti 
cated. 

On  fire  to  put  him  on  his  guard,  she  cut  short 
the  interview.  She  must  go  at  once.  She  must 
warn  him,  must  help  him  at  any  cost.  Her 
manner  was  strangely  abstracted,  and  to  Victoria's 
amazement  she  did  not  try  to  defend  her  protege, 
but  took  her  leave  with  unaccustomed  quiet.  Vic 
toria  looked  after  her  with  puzzled  eyes. 

"  Now  what  on  earth  —  "  she  began  aloud. 

"What  did  she  say?"  came  from  Mrs.  Dur- 
168 


WHITEWASH 

ham,   peeping  in   between   the  curtains  of  her 
room. 

"  Nothing  at  all.     I  don't  understand  it." 

"Didn't  get  angry?  didn't  make  any  demur 
to  your  statements  concerning  '  dear  mamma's ' 
jewels?  " 

"  She  didn't  seem  really  surprised,  either,  now 
that  I  come  to  think  of  it.  I  can't  make  it  out." 
Victoria  sighed,  wearily.  "  I  wish  I  knew  what 
she  has  up  her  sleeve  —  for  she  has  something." 

"  Do  you  suppose,"  Mrs.  Durham  ventured, 
shrewdly,  "  that  he  has  told  her  himself  —  oh,  not 
the  real  thing,  but  some  explanation  ?  " 

Victoria  shook  her  head.  "  Hardly ;  it  is  too 
grave.  It  wouldn't  do  for  him  to  block  me  by 
fighting  fire  with  a  fire  sure  to  burn  him  just 
as  badly." 

"What  then?" 

"  That's  just  it ;  I  don't  see  any  explanation. 
Oh,  it's  probably  only  imagination.  She  was 
quiet  about  it  for  the  reason  that  she  wasn't 
sufficiently  interested.  You  know  how  one  always 
attributes  a  deeper  motive  than  the  apparent  one 
because  the  obvious  appears  too  simple." 

169 


WHITEWASH 

"  That  is  the  habit  of  wily  people,"  said  Mrs. 
Durham ;  "  but  Vic,  my  dear,  you  are  not  of  that 
kind.  You  are  direct;  that  is  your  power  and 
your  charm.  I'll  back  an  impression  of  yours 
against  three  of  my  own,  and  I'm  not  so  very 
modest  and  humble  about  my  own  penetration. 
My  advice  to  you,  my  girl,  is,  if  you  feel  there 
is  a  screw  loose  in  the  elegant  Miss  Ford,  watch 
her.  You  are  very  apt  to  be  right." 

"  I  don't  intend,"  said  Victoria,  rising,  "  to 
bother  my  head  about  it  longer.  Mr.  Conway  and 
I  are  going  to  lunch  at  the  Casino.  Don't  you 
want  to  come  ?  " 

Mrs.  Durham  shook  her  head.  "  No,  I  can't. 
I  have  to  be  at  Miss  Allison's  at  two." 

"  I'm  sorry.  I'd  like  you  two  to  be  friends. 
He  is  the  rarest  thing  in  the  world,  a  well-bal 
anced  enthusiast." 

"  Why  don't  you  marry  him,  Vic?  You  seem 
to  admire  him  so  much." 

"  I'm  altogether  too  fond  of  him  for  that,"  she 
answered,  gravely. 

Mrs.  Durham  nodded.  "  Yes,  as  one  nears  the 
years  of,  say  —  indiscretion,  it's  well  to  treasure 
170 


H 


an  occasional  illusion.     It  makes  one  think  kindly 
of  one's  self  as  well  as  of  others." 

"  Besides,"  Victoria  went  on,  occupied  with  her 
own  chain  of  thought,  "  he  keeps  my  mind  too 
busy  when  we  are  together ;  I  have  no  leisure  to 
think  of  anything  but  the  subject  in  hand.  And 
I've  always  observed  that  to  fall  in  love  with  a 
person,  there  must  be  a  possibility  of  an  occasional 
silence,  or,  at  least,  a  lull :  then  one's  senses  begin 
to  take  note.  But  with  a  person  who  keeps 
your  intellect  continually  occupied,  there  is  no 
leisure  for  emotions.  That's  why  you  see  so 
many  clever  people  fall  in  love  with  stupid  ones, 
or  those  for  whom  they  are  entirely  unfitted." 

"  Why  don't  you  give  lectures  on  the  tender 
passion?  "  asked  Mrs.  Durham,  with  fine  irony. 

"  Because,"  returned  Victoria,  "  I  should  prob 
ably  champion  the  idea  of  return-tickets,  good 
for  six  months,  for  matrimonial  explorers.  How 
on  earth  does  a  person  know  whether  he  likes  a 
country  he  has  never  seen?  And  from  what  I 
have  known  of  my  friends  who  have  settled  in 
the  holy  united  states  of  matrimony,  I  think  they 
all  regret  not  having  had  the  land  prospected." 

171 


WHITEWASH 

"  I  cancel  your  lecture  tour,  my  dear.  As  I 
remarked  before,  your  directness  is  startling. 
However,  that  does  not  alter  my  belief  that  you 
would  be  very  happy  married  to  the  right  man." 

"  But,"  objected  Victoria,  "  how  am  I  to  know 
the  right  man  ?  They  all  say  they  are  —  and  I 
don't  know." 

Mrs.  Durham  stamped  her  foot.  "  Go  on  to 
your  Platonic  rendezvous ;  there  is  no  convincing 
you  of  obvious  facts." 

Victoria  planted  herself  firmly  before  her  chum. 
"  Do  you  want  to  get  rid  of  me,  or  do  you  think 
twenty-five  is  so  old  that  you  wish  to  provide 
for  me  as  one  sends  a  pauper  to  the  old  ladies' 
home?  I  won't  marry  till  I've  found  Galahad, 
Don  Quixote,  and  Satan  himself  rolled  into  one. 
He'd  be  worth  studying." 

"  And  I'll  bet  you  the  proceeds  of  my  next 
chef-d'oeuvre,"  Mrs.  Durham  replied,  "  that  you 
marry  the  most  ordinary  of  mortals,  and  before 
you're  five  years  older,  too." 

"  Cassandra !  "  and  Victoria  shook  her  friend 
by  the  shoulders. 

"  Cassandra's  prophecies  were  fulfilled,  if  you 
172 


WHITEWASH 

will  recall  your  Iliad,  my  lady,  so  put  that  in 
your  cigarette  and  smoke  it." 

"  You  are  incorrigible,"  said  Victoria,  freeing 
her  captive.  "I'm  going — I'll  be  home  early, 
though.  Morton  is  going  driving  with  somebody, 
he  told  me,  so  we  won't  linger  over  the  coffee." 

Pushing  in  her  rebellious  hairpins  with  her 
familiar  gesture,  she  found  her  hat  and  gloves, 
smoothed  herself  down,  and  waved  a  final 
good-by. 

Twenty  minutes  later  she  was  in  sight  of 
the  low  building  situated  in  the  centre  of  the 
Park.  Morton  was  waiting  for  her,  wandering 
up  and  down  in  the  checkered  light  and  shade 
under  the  wistaria  arbor  now  bare  and  gray. 
His  face  lighted  with  affectionate  greeting  as  he 
recognized  the  swing  of  her  strong  young  body 
and  the  free  stride  of  her  walk. 

"  Hello,  Empress  of  India,  Queen  of  the  Isles ! 
I  hope  you're  as  hungry  as  I  am." 

She  held  out  her  hand  in  frank  delight  at  his 
presence. 

"  Starved  —  and  starving  for  a  good  old-fash 
ioned  talk  with  you,  too."  She  gave  his  shoulder 

173 


WHITEWASH 

a  familiar  pat,  and  they  turned  toward  the  res 
taurant.  "It's  like  old  times,  isn't  it?  And  I 
have  so  much  to  say  that  I'm  positively  choked." 

He  looked  at  her  carefully,  taking  in  every 
detail  of  her  dress  and  person. 

"  You're  looking  extremely  well,  Tory.  Do 
you  know,  I've  often  wondered  why  you  haven't 
married." 

She  turned  on  him  sharply.  "  I  say,  what  has 
got  into  you  all  to-day?  Mrs.  Durham  has  been 
sermonizing  from  the  same  text,  and  now  you 
begin.  What  put  it  into  your  head?  Are  you 
contemplating  it  yourself?  " 

With  her  usual  logic  she  had  hit  the  nail  on 
the  head,  and  Morton,  who  was  bursting  to  tell, 
had  a  struggle  to  prevent  his  secret  slipping  from 
him.  He  sought  the  usual  refuge  of  exaggerated 
humor. 

"  Alas !  the  only  girl  I  ever  loved  has  refused 
to  tell  me  when  she'll  marry  me.  There  are  others, 
I  know,  and  I  have  even  been  told  that  I'm  a 
catch ;  but  somehow  —  well,  my  affairs  aren't  in 
teresting.  "  You  tell  me  of  yours.  I  had  the 
table  put  here,"  he  added,  as  he  drew  out  her 
174 


WHITEWASH 

chair  for  her,  "  because  I  knew  that  you  would 
insist  on  '  out-of-doors  '  if  you  froze  for  it ;  but 
the  lunch  is  hot,  so  I'll  let  you  have  your  way." 

"  Line  of  least  resistance,"  she  laughed.  "  By 
the  way,  speaking  of  resistance,  I  see  you  won 
your  case." 

He  nodded.  "  Yes,  but  it  was  more  trouble 
than  it  was  worth  ;  the  law  —  " 

"  Tell  me,"  she  broke  in,  abruptly,  "  do  you 
know  anything  about  extradition?  I've  man 
aged  to  get  myself  mixed  up  in  a  possible  Franco- 
Russian-American  row,  and  I'm  beginning  to  be 
sorry  for  it." 

"  You'll  be  considerably  more  sorry  before 
you're  through,  my  dear,  unsophisticated  infant. 
You'll  have  subpoenas  and  things  served  on  you." 

She  held  up  an  appealing  hand.  "  Don't !  You 
make  me  feel  like  a  dining-table." 

"  You'll  feel  more  like  the  dinner  when  they 
dish  you  up,  young  lady.  How  did  you  ever  get 
mixed  up  in  the  thing?  " 

"  That's  the  worst  of  it,"  Victoria  answered, 
ruefully.  "  I  did  it.  I've  pushed  the  button,  and 
I  suppose  it's  opened  the  Exposition,  like  the 

175 


WHITEWASH 

President  and  the  World's  Fair.  Yes,  you  might 
just  as  well  settle  back  and  listen,  for  I'm  going 
to  tell  you  the  whole  story.  This  is  the  fourth 
time  in  two  days  —  Mrs.  D.,  the  French  consul, 
Philippa  Ford,  and  now  you." 

"Why  Miss  Ford?"  hastily  inquired  Morton. 

"  Because  she  was  mixed  up  in  it,  too.  I'm  not 
shouting  this  about  generally.  I  told  Mrs.  Dur 
ham  because  the  thing  struck  me  all  of  a  heap, 
and  I  had  to  get  it  out  or  die.  I  told  the  French 
consul  because  I  had  to  shift  the  responsibility. 
I  told  Philippa  because  I  thought  she  ought  to 
know,  and  I  tell  you  because  you  are  a  sort  of 
twin,  and  because  I  want  your  help.  Bob  is  at 
college,  and,  besides,  he's  too  much  of  a  boy  to 
be  of  any  use." 

"  Don't  forget  to  eat,"  Morton  observed, 
kindly ;  "  nothing  like  nourishment  when  you 
have  to  act  and  think." 

Victoria  obediently  devoured  what  was  put 
before  her  as  she  went  over  the  familiar  story. 
She  was  too  engrossed  to  notice  that  her  unvar 
nished  opinion  of  Philippa's  character  for  veracity 
and  honor  wrought  a  sudden  and  subtle  change 
176 


WHITEWASH 

in  Morton's  manner.  He  recalled  Philippa's  affec 
tionate  tributes  to  Victoria,  and  the  first  doubt 
that  had  ever  dimmed  his  old  and  deep  affection 
settled  over  his  heart.  After  all,  Tory  was  no 
better  than  the  average  woman  swayed  by  jeal 
ousy,  the  fundamental  fault;  he  had  always 
believed  her  above  such  pettiness  and  personal 
spite.  He  was  far  too  loyal  in  his  love  to  doubt 
Philippa  for  a  moment.  She  stood  on  the  altar 
he  had  built  for  her,  free  from  all  question.  The 
queen  could  do  no  wrong,  and  since  she  was  un 
speakably  good  and  true  and  honorable,  there 
was  only  one  other  opinion  open  to  him.  Vic 
toria  had  been  mistaken  in  the  matter  of  the  pin, 
or  misled  by  some  chance  resemblance  of  design. 
As  far  as  the  story  concerned  Valdeck,  he  was 
more  than  ready  to  believe  it.  He  had  mistrusted 
the  Pole  from  the  first,  and  had  watched  with 
ever  deepening  dislike  the  mysterious  stranger's 
advance  into  the  good  graces  of  his  lady-love. 

Victoria  finished  her  narration  and  sat  silent, 
staring  out  across  the  bare  court  to  the  deserted 
trellis  and  the  empty  carriage  sheds. 

Morton  was  uncomfortable.  To  have  detected 

177 


WHITEWASH 

Victoria  in  a  meanness  was  a  severe  blow  to  him ; 
he  began  to  realize  what  an  exalted  opinion  he 
had  held  of  her.  He  had  been  foolish;  women 
were  women  the  world  over  —  all  but  Philippa; 
his  heart  warmed  at  the  thought  of  her. 

"  Are  you  sure  you  cannot  be  mistaken?  "  he 
asked,  at  length.  "  Resemblances  are  extraordi 
nary,  you  know,  and  in  the  matter  of  the  pin, 
no  sane  jury  would  convict  a  man  because  of 
such  a  bit  of  circumstantial  evidence.  The  same 
jeweller  might  have  made  many  similar  pieces. 
Why  shouldn't  Miss  Ford's  mother  have  possessed 
such  a  jewrel  ?  " 

Victoria's  laugh  was  short  and  of  the  kind 
termed  nasty.  "  Because  Philippa  has  been  trot 
ting  Valdeck  about  with  her,  evidently  for  some 
months  —  and  two  and  two  make  four." 

"  Miss  Ford  would  hardly  accept  such  a  present 
from  any  man,  and  much  less  from  one  she  hardly 
knew." 

"  How  little  you  know  Philippa !  "  retorted  Vic 
toria,  with  cool  decision. 

"  I  thought  you  were  friends."  The  tone  of 
Morton's  voice  would  have  enlightened  his  hearer 
178 


WHITEWASH 

at  any  other  time,  but  her  absorption  in  her 
"  case  "  blinded  her  for  the  moment. 

"  Friends !  "  she  answered,  with  an  expressive 
shrug;  "friends  —  what  do  you  call  friends? 
I've  known  her  for  years  —  granted.  She  uses 
me  —  and  thinks  I  don't  know  it.  So  she  chooses 
to  call  me  her  darling,  and  assumes  that  my  atti 
tude  is  one  of  adoration.  It  is  not;  I  have  told 
her  so  frequently.  She  amuses  me.  In  return 
for  my  usefulness,  she  gives  me  a  certain  cynical 
satisfaction,  an  intellectual  treat.  She  is  a  great 
actress  of  parlor  comedy,  worthy  of  the  closest 
observation.  If  I  were  on  the  stage  I  would 
give  years  to  the  study  of  her  method;  it  is 
pure,  unalloyed,  instinctive  genius." 

Every  word  of  Victoria's  speech  carried  with 
it  her  own  condemnation  to  Morton's  ears.  It 
hurt  him,  stabbed  him,  tortured  the  fine  affection 
that  he  had  held  so  long.  He  longed  to  declare 
his  position  and  champion  his  lady's  cause,  but 
his  promise  held  him  dumb.  He  stared  unsee 
ing  at  the  bare  winter  landscape  before  him.  A 
short  hour  before  it  had  not  seemed  unbeautiful, 
the  pale  blue  sky,  the  gray  lace-work  of  bare 

179 


WHITEWASH 

branches  and  the  brown,  snow-spotted  lawns ;  the 
air  had  not  seemed  chill,  nor  the  earth  unkind. 
Now,  it  was  all  unmitigated  ugliness. 

"  I  can't  advise  you,  I'm  afraid,"  he  said, 
coldly ;  "  but  I'd  be  careful  if  I  were  you.  It's 
no  light  matter  to  bring  accusations  against  man 
or  woman  —  you  have  that  to  learn." 

She  looked  up,  hurt  that  the  quick,  never- 
failing  sympathy  and  understanding,  the  whole- 
souled  appropriation  of  each  other's  griefs,  joys, 
and  cares  that  had  been  a  feature  of  their  friend 
ship,  should  fail  her  now.  A  quick  thought  of 
her  long  absence  and  of  possible  divergencies  of 
character  flashed  over  her.  Her  mobile  face 
clouded  sadly.  She  felt  very  shut  out  and  alone. 
She,  too,  realized  how  much  this  association  and 
companionship  had  meant  to  her.  How  she  had 
idealized  and  turned  to  their  perfect  friendship 
as  a  prop  and  stay.  Her  throat  ached  cruelly. 
So  it  was  over,  this  dream  of  an  earthly  friend 
ship!  Something  had  deviated  them  from  their 
parallel  during  her  three  years'  absence,  in  spite 
of  their  constant  correspondence.  They  had 
grown  in  different  directions.  Filled  with  a 
1 80 


WHITEWASH 

nameless  sadness  they  sat  silent,  and  in  the  si 
lence  the  breach  widened;  they  looked  at  each 
other  as  passengers  on  passing  ships  might  watch 
the  breadth  of  separating  waters  increase  with 
each  pulse-beat  of  the  engines. 

Victoria  rose  hastily.  "  It's  very  late,  Mor 
ton,"  she  said,  with  an  effort  at  cheerfulness. 
"  You  have  your  drive,  you  say,  and  I  must  go 
back  to  the  studio.  Does  your  road  lead  my  way, 
or  do  we  separate  here?  " 

Morton  glanced  at  his  watch.  "  My  horses 
are  at  the  driving-club;  I'll  walk  down  with 
you." 

They  walked  fast  and  in  silence  for  the  most 
part,  except  for  such  desultory  conversation  as 
their  mutual  embarrassment  seemed  to  make  nec 
essary.  They  parted  with  their  old  phrases  of 
affection,  but  the  hearty  freedom  had  left  them, 
and  both  felt  it  with  a  shock  of  loneliness.  Vic 
toria  turned  toward  her  temporary  home,  and 
Morton  made  his  way  to  the  club,  where  he 
ordered  his  team  with  such  dejection  that  even 
the  hostler  wondered.  While  he  waited  he  went 
over  the  interview.  He  honestly  believed  that 

181 


WHITEWASH 

he  looked  at  the  case  impersonally,  for  the  bias 
lay  too  deep,  was  too  much  a  part  of  himself, 
for  him  to  realize  its  presence.  He  would  not 
admit  the  possibility  of  anything  but  the  most 
angelic  sentiments  in  Philippa.  Philosophers 
have  contended  that  real  Platonic  affection  be 
tween  man  and  woman  is  impossible,  yet  he  ad 
mitted  to  himself  that  the  utter  annihilation  of 
all  his  respect  for  all  his  other  friends  could  not 
grieve  him  as  did  this  suspicion  of  meanness  in 
Victoria.  She  had  always  stood  to  him  as  a  type 
of  the  "  big  and  white,"  as  his  college  slang 
briefly  and  picturesquely  put  it.  And  after  all  she 
was  only  small  and  spotted  like  the  rest  of  the 
world.  He  felt  instinctively  that  he  must  read 
just  his  valuation  of  all  things. 

The  stamping  of  his  horses  on  the  wooden 
floor  roused  him,  and  he  went  to  them  with  his 
usual  slaps  and  sugar,  mounted  to  the  seat  of 
his  light  runabout  and  signed  his  readiness.  With 
the  opening  of  the  sliding-doors  the  friend  van 
ished  and  the  lover  came.  "  When  half-gods  go, 
the  gods  arrive."  Victoria  the  disappointing 
fled  from  his  mind  and  made  place  for  Philippa 
182 


WHITEWASH 

the  perfect.  His  heart  sang  as  he  pulled  up 
before  the  wide,  old-fashioned  front  of  the  house, 
and  his  smile  held  all  his  love  and  trust  enthroned, 
as  he  saw  her  graceful  figure  step  between  the 
swinging-doors  and  descend  to  meet  him. 

She  looked  up  into  his  face  with  eyes  of  such 
superhuman  innocence  that  his  soul  went  out  to 
her.  And  this  was  the  woman  Victoria  had  dared 
to  accuse  of  lying,  duplicity,  veniality,  vanity,  the 
quartet  of  feminine  vices  he  most  detested. 
Philippa,  the  down-trodden  angel,  appealed  to  all 
the  chivalry  in  him.  It  was  with  a  new  and 
protecting  tenderness  that  he  assisted  her  to  her 
place  at  his  side.  Heretofore  she  had  dazzled 
and  baffled  him,  now  she  was  his  to  shield  and 
comfort,  and  the  joy  of  it  was  very  keen. 

"  Well,  dear?  "  she  said  as  they  turned  toward 
the  Park. 

"  Very  well,  dear,"  he  answered,  happily. 
"And  you?" 

"  I'm  tired,"  she  said,  her  voice  full  of  the 
infantile,  pathetic  quality  that  so  endeared  her 
to  those  who  did  not  know  her.  "  Let's  see,  I 
dined  out  last  night,  since  you  had  your  old 

183 


WHITEWASH 

class  dinner  to  go  to;  and  to-day  I  called  on 
dear  Victoria,  and  I  have  just  been  lunching  with 
a  lot  of  girls.  Awfully  stupid  —  I  hate  girls' 
affairs,  anyway.  They  are  all  gossip  and  back 
bite,  and  I  hate  it  so !  " 

Morton,  in  his  thirst  of  her  every  look  and 
movement,  very  nearly  ran  down  a  nurse  and 
baby-carriage.  She  laughed  indulgently  and 
merrily.  Life  was  very  exciting  and  full  just 
now ;  she  almost  forgave  him  for  being  engaged 
to  her. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  all  this  while? 
You  haven't  accounted  for  your  time  yet,  you 
know." 

He  touched  up  the  off  horse  as  he  answered : 
"  Class  dinner  last  night,  rather  good  fun ;  and 
this  morning  —  well,  just  some  business  that 
wouldn't  interest  you ;  and  then  I  took  Victoria 
out  to  lunch  at  the  Casino.  After  that  I  came 
for  you." 

Philippa  divined  at  once  that  the  "  lie  "  was 
in  circulation,  and  she  took  the  bull  by  the  horns. 

"  I  suppose  she  took  occasion  to  abuse  Val- 
deck?"    she  said,  tentatively. 
184 


WHITEWASH 

Morton  was  surprised. 

"  Yes,  I  intended  to  speak  to  you  of  it.  She 
told  me  she  had  put  you  on  your  guard.  You 
remember  I  told  you,  dear,  that  I  hardly  thought 
him  a  gentleman." 

Philippa  flamed.  "  Between  saying  a  man  isn't 
a  gentleman  and  accusing  him  of  murder  and 
burglary  there  is  a  long  stretch." 

"  Then  you  think  she  is  entirely  mistaken  ?  " 

Philippa  hesitated.  "  You  know  how  fond  I 
was  of  her,  and  I  know  how  much  you  thought 
of  her;  yet,  Morton,  dear,  —  but  I  can't  help  it, 
I  am  forced  to  believe  she  is  doing  this  thing 
out  of  sheer  vindictiveness  and  personal  spite. 
It  hurts  me  more  than  I  can  tell  you  to  say  such 
a  thing,  —  but  I  can't  help  it,  it's  true."  Her 
voice  quivered,  but  how  satisfying  it  was  to  say 
it! 

Morton's  heart  stood  still.  "  What  makes  you 
say  that  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Just  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  can't  very  well  tell  you  all.  She  knows 
that  I  guess  the  truth,  and  I  suppose  she  will 
try  and  work  me  into  the  disgrace  she  is  pre 
paring  for  Valdeck,  but  I  have  you,  Morton,  and 

185 


WHITEWASH 

nothing  else  matters.  Tell  me,  didn't  she  try  to 
shake  your  confidence  in  me  in  some  way?  " 

Morton  remained  silent,  and  Philippa  under 
stood. 

"  She  told  you  that  story  about  my  "  —  a  tear 
crept  into  her  blue,  childlike  eyes  —  "  my  poor 
mother's  pin.  She  told  me  she  knew  Valdeck  had 
given  it  to  me.  The  very  idea !  " 

Morton  was  evidently  aghast.  "  But  why  on 
earth,"  he  exclaimed,  "  should  she  do  such  a 
thing?" 

"  It's  a  very  delicate  subject,"  —  she  blushed 
deeply,  —  "  but  I  have  heard  it  —  I  mustn't  tell 
you  just  where,  but  on  good  authority,  for  it 
was  pretty  well  known  in  Paris,  there  was  a  love- 
affair,  and  she  is  furiously  jealous  —  even  of  me, 
when  she  found  that  I  was  his  friend.  She  inter 
prets  every  one's  feelings  for  the  man  by  her 
own  sentiments,  and  she  is  bent  on  ruining  him 
—  and  me,  too,  if  she  can  incidentally.  She  is 
circulating  a  lie,  a  wicked,  cruel  lie.  She  accuses 
him  of  robbery,  and  by  inference,  she  accuses  me 
of  helping  him;  I  believe  that's  about  what  it 
amounts  to;  at  any  rate,  she  says  I  accepted 
1 86 


WHITEWASH 

presents  of  jewelry  from  him.  She  states  that 
she  recognized  my  poor  mother's  pin  as  part  of  the 
stolen  property.  It's  outrageous !  " 

Morton  set  his  lips  hard  and  cut  his  horses 
sharply  with  his  whip.  "  I  don't  remember  this 
pin  of  yours,  Philippa,"  he  said,  after  a  tense 
moment,  more  to  say  something  than  to  voice  any 
particular  thought. 

She  colored  quickly.  "  It's  gone  —  I  don't 
know  how  or  where.  I  had  it  on  yesterday,  in 
fact  it  was  in  the  afternoon  at  a  tea  that  she  pre 
tended  to  recognize  it.  I  dined  with  some  friends, 
but  when  I  reached  home  it  was  gone!  " 

"Gone!" 

"  Yes,  gone,  and  where,  unless  Victoria  stole 
it  for  some  purpose,  I  don't  know." 

Morton  shrank  as  if  he  had  been  burned. 
"  Don't  say  that!  "  he  begged,  huskily.  "  Don't 
make  this  wretched  thing  any  worse  than  it  is." 

"  You  couldn't,"  Philippa  murmured,  darkly. 
"  I  never  would  have  believed  it  of  her  —  never. 
But  some  awful  change  has  come  over  her  since 
she  has  been  away;  she  is  not  the  same." 

Morton  nodded,  and  drove  on  in  silence. 

187 


WHITEWASH 

Rapidly  he  pieced  out  the  two  conversations,  one 
by  the  other.  Philippa  was  the  unquestioned 
soul  of  honor,  consequently  it  was  her  story 
Victoria's  confidences  completed,  not  Victoria's 
substantiated  by  Philippa's  comments.  He  was 
inexpressibly  saddened.  Even  the  radiant  pres 
ence  of  his  lady-love  failed  to  rouse  him  from 
the  mournful  apathy  into  which  he  fell.  He  was 
still  too  loyal  to  the  old  affection  to  talk  over 
the  miserable  downfall,  even  with  Philippa.  But 
something,  and  that  his  very  darling  illusion,  had 
vanished  from  his  life,  and  he  faced,  sadly 
enough,  what  he  believed  to  be  a  loathsome 
reality. 

The  drive  was  completed  in  silence  on  his  part, 
with  chattering  small  talk  on  hers.  She  had 
winged  her  shaft  and  sent  it  home,  and  now 
watched  its  venom  spread  with  a  light-hearted 
satisfaction  worthy  of  a  Lucretia  Borgia  of  psy 
chology.  She  had  nothing  now  to  fear  from 
Victoria,  and  she  was  at  the  same  time  vindi 
cating  and  serving  Valdeck,  in  whom  she  con 
fided  with  something  of  the  blind  faith  that 
Morton  reposed  in  her.  Properly  circulated,  in 
1 88 


WHITEWASH 

ten  days  the  story  of  Victoria's  past  would  ef 
fectually  sift  among  her  friends  and  acquaint 
ances,  and  cut  her  off  silently  and  surely  from 
all  social  life.  The  wicked  slander  against  Val- 
deck  would  fall  of  itself,  once  the  spring  of  vin- 
dictiveness  was  exposed  to  the  public  gaze,  and 
Lucius,  noble,  generous,  patriotic  martyr,  would 
pass  over  the  net  that  was  set  for  his  feet,  and 
his  tormentor  be  herself  involved  in  the  meshes! 


189 


CHAPTER    V. 

A  EN  days  passed  eventless  to  Victoria  until 
the  morning  of  the  eleventh,  which  was  marked 
by  a  letter  from  Sonia.  In  this,  her  friend  wrote 
affectionately  of  everything  and  of  every  one  in 
their  old  circle,  and  concluded  with  a  request  for 
information  concerning  the  Auray  robbery,  she 
having  been  notified  to  hold  herself  in  readiness  to 
identify  the  criminal  if  caught.  The  long  and 
rambling  epistle  closed  with  a  bit  of  information 
that  set  Victoria  thinking. 

"  The  strange  thing  is,"  wrote  Sonia,  "  that 
our  inky  countess  has  disappeared,  so  the  official, 
a  very  chatty  and  sociable  individual,  informed 
me.  She  suspected  the  maid  —  you  remember  her 
—  of  being  in  collusion  with  the  thief.  Unfor 
tunately,  this  did  not  dawn  on  her  till  the  said 
Abigail  had  departed  for  parts  unknown,  which 
she  did  shortly  after  the  burial  of  the  child.  The 
190 


WHITEWASH 

police  have  been  searching  for  them  both,  and 
are  inclined  to  think  that  the  tragedy  unsettled 
the  poor  lady's  reason.  However,  she  went  sup 
plied  with  a  replica  photograph  of  Valdeck  from 
the  rogues'  gallery  here,  and  plenty  of  money. 
She  took  no  one  into  her  confidence,  as  far  as 
my  informant  knows.  Strange,  isn't  it?  I  can 
vividly  imagine  that  gaunt,  black,  half-crazed 
woman  travelling  aimlessly  over  the  world  in 
search  of  the  man  who  killed  her  daughter,  and 
the  woman  who  aided  him.  A  sensational  story 
from  first  to  last !  And  now,  it  seems,  from  your 
far-off  land  a  new  chapter  is  to  be  sent  out.  I 
must  own  I'm  interested.  Be  sure  to  write  me 
all  the  news,  and  don't  be  surprised  if  at  any 
moment  the  steamer  lands  on  the  shores  of  free 
dom  your  old  friend  and  companion,  Sonia  Pa- 
lintzka." 

Victoria  re-read  the  letter,  stuck  it  on  her  file, 
and  leaned  back,  running  her  hands  through  her 
heavy  hair.  "  So,  the  maid  had  at  last  been 
suspected !  "  She  remembered  with  vivid  clear 
ness  the  scene  in  the  dying  child's  presence,  when 
the  woman  hysterically  gave  in  evidence  a  descrip- 

191 


WHITEWASH 

tion  exactly  contrary  to  that  of  the  pretended 
Englishman.  She  recalled  in  particular  the  words 
referring  to  the  hands,  "  hairy,  rough,  and  cal 
lous,  like  those  of  a  working  man."  Valdeck's 
hands  were  long,  slim,  and  gentlemanly.  At  the 
time  she  had  put  this  discrepancy  down  to  fright, 
to  the  possibility  of  a  second  marauder.  It  now 
appeared  to  her  as  a  wilful  desire  to  mislead, 
to  throw  the  pursuers  off  the  scent.  Jumping 
to  her  feet,  Victoria  began  the  regular  pacing 
of  the  room  that  with  her  betokened  perturbation 
of  spirit.  After  all,  the  black  countess's  quest 
might  be  in  the  right  direction.  Suddenly  she 
stopped  short. 

"I'm  sure  of  it!  I'm  sure  of  it!"  she  ex 
claimed,  aloud,  to  the  empty  room.  "  That  woman 
chloroformed  herself  when  she  heard  the  noise 
outside  in  the  hall.  I  remember  the  cloth  over 
the  gag  was  loosely  tied  and  very  damp.  The 
gag  was  a  mere  blind  that  doubtless  Valdeck 
put  on,  the  more  readily  to  exonerate  her!  I'm 
sure  of  it!  I  have  a  feeling  it  is  so."  Then  she 
mused  more  quietly.  "  How  this  thing  has  been 
resurrected!  Its  influence  is  stretching  over  my 
192 


WHITEWASH 

life  again,  and  I  thought  I  had  left  it  far  behind 
in  little,  old-world  Brittany.  Here  it  comes  up 
in  modern,  commonplace  New  York.  So  the 
maid  was  in  it  with  him  ?  I  wonder  I  didn't  think 
of  it  before.  If  ever  the  black  countess  does  catch 
up  with  them  —  ': 

The  rattle  of  a  latch-key  interrupted  her,  and 
a  moment  later  Mrs.  Durham  entered,  shut  the 
door  behind  her,  and  stood  regarding  her  friend 
with  a  face  at  once  serious  and  questioning. 

"  Look  here,"  Victoria  began,  "  I've  just  had  a 
letter  —  " 

Mrs.  Durham  threw  herself  into  her  pet  leather 
chair  and  raised  her  veil.  The  movement  was 
instinct  with  gravity.  Victoria  stopped  short  in 
her  sentence  and  looked  curiously  at  her. 

"  What  is  it?  "  she  demanded.  "  Has  Delmon- 
ico's  burned  up,  or  have  the  hansom-cabbies  gone 
out  on  strike?  " 

"  You  won't  laugh  when  I  tell  you,"  Mrs. 
Durham  burst  out.  "  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  how 
to  tell  you,  or  where  to  begin  —  but  begin  I 
must.  Victoria,  I  have  heard  the  most  awful 
stories  that  are  being  circulated  about  you !  " 

193 


WHITEWASH 

"About  me?"  Victoria  shrugged  her  shoul 
ders.  "  People  must  talk  about  some  one.  I 
haven't  been  home  long,  so  naturally  they  take 
it  out  on  me  —  I'm  new.  What  do  they  say? 
that  I  drink  absinthe  by  the  quart,  or  dance  the 
latest  Parisian  danse  eccentrique  on  the  studio 
roof?  I'm  prepared  for  anything." 

"  Indeed  you  are  not !  Heavens !  do  you  sup 
pose  I'd  care  for  any  such  trifle  as  that?  A 
slander  of  that  sort  is  only  a  bored  and  unoccu 
pied  society's  way  of  paying  a  compliment,  and 
I  tell  you  —  Well,  I  might  as  well  blurt  it  out. 
They  are  saying  you  were  mixed  up  in  an  abom 
inably  disgraceful  love-affair  in  Paris !  " 

Victoria  sprang  to  her  feet  and  stood  bristling 
and  defiant.  "Who  says  such  a  thing?"  she 
demanded. 

"  And,"  continued  Mrs.  Durham,  hotly,  ignor 
ing  the  question,  "  I  am  told  that  out  of  revenge 
and  jealousy  you  have  endeavored  to  ruin  the 
man's  character  by  bringing  terrible  and  un 
founded  accusations  against  him !  " 

"You're  crazy!"  Victoria  interposed. 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort." 
194 


"  Nobody  would  circulate  such  nonsense." 

"  Well,  they  have." 

"Who  are  they?" 

"  Three  people  to-day." 

"  Do  they  mention  any  one,  or  is  this  all  in 
the  air?" 

"  No,  they  give  names." 

"Who?" 

"  Whom  do  you  suppose?  —  Valdeck!  " 

"Valdeck?" 

"  Valdeck." 

"  There's  only  one  person  who  would  —  " 

"Of  course  — " 

"Philippa!" 

"  Naturally." 

"  What  does  it  all  mean?  " 

"  It's  beyond  me! 

"  I  recognized  your  friend's  fine  Italian  hand 
at  once,  but  you  can't  prove  it  easily.  Suppose 
she  denies  saying  anything?  " 

"  But  why  should  she  do  this  ?  "  exclaimed  Vic 
toria,  utterly  at  sea. 

"  She  is  infatuated  with  him." 


195 


WHITEWASH 

"  What  of  it?  That's  no  reason  for  saying  I 
ever  knew  him  in  Paris." 

Mrs.  Durham  settled  herself  and  compressed 
her  lips.  "  Don't  you  see?  She  wants  to  nullify 
your  story  if  it  should  get  out.  Well,  I  gave 
the  ladies  who  '  thought  I  ought  to  know  '  a  piece 
of  my  unvarnished  mind  for  crediting  such  a 
thing  —  or  listening  to  it,  for  that  matter  —  but 
not  till  I  had  pumped  them  sufficiently  to  trace 
the  information  in  the  direction  of  your  charming 
friend.  Now,  Victoria,  dear,  we  must  hunt  this 
thing  down;  bring  every  one  face  to  face  with 
his  neighbor  who  handed  on  the  gossip.  And 
when  we  have  sifted  everything  down,  we  will 
take  action." 

"  But,"  cried  Victoria,  bewildered  for  once, 
"  I  don't  see  any  reason  —  there's  no  motive. 
People  don't  murder  without  a  motive;  why, 
then,  should  they  kill  a  person's  character  with 
out  one?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  Mrs.  Durham  replied.  "  But 
I  tell  you,  my  dear,  we  will  find  out." 

Victoria  seized  the  poker  and  played  havoc 


196 


WHITEWASH 

with  the  fire  for  a  few  moments;   then  she  rose 
from  her  crouching  position  with  a  spring. 

"  I'm  going  to  interview  Philippa  this  very 
afternoon.  Will  you  come  with  me?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Durham.  "  You  must  head 
this  gossip  off  at  once.  You  have  only  your  un 
supported  word  at  present,  but  proof  can  be 
readily  forthcoming,  and  Philippa  will  have  to 
give  the  source  of  her  information.  If  you  must 
have  a  slander  suit,  you  can  get  healthy  damages." 

"  What  I  want,"  Victoria  broke  in,  viciously, 
"  is  the  privilege  of  branding  the  person  who 
started  that  rumor  with  the  red-hottest  iron  in 
the  city.  Damages  won't  give  me  any  such  phys 
ical  satisfaction !  " 

"  You're  too  primeval,  my  dear,"  her  friend 
commented.  "  But  I  must  confess  that  perhaps 
the  whipping-post  —  However,  first  catch  your 
scoundrel  before  you  prepare  the  boiling  oil." 

Victoria  smiled  gloatingly.  Suddenly  she  dark 
ened.  "  Do  you  know,  I  believe  that  Philippa  has 
been  persuading  —  but  no,  he  wouldn't  believe 
such  things  of  me,  even  if  we  have  diverged." 

"Who?" 

197 


WHITEWASH 

"  Morton.  He  hasn't  been  near  me  for  over 
a  week." 

"Well,  Philippa  knows  him,  doesn't  she?" 

"  Yes.  But  he  wouldn't  believe  such  stuff  if 
he  heard  it.  And  even  if  he  did,  it  would  make 
no  difference  as  far  as  he  is  concerned.  He  would 
say  I  had  a  right  to  do  as  I  pleased." 

"  Oh,  with  a  woman  in  the  case  you  can't  tell," 
Mrs.  Durham  wisely  suggested.  "  How  well 
does  he  know  Miss  Ford  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know  —  I've  been  away  so 
long.  But  "  —  and  memory  brought  up  a  sudden 
picture  of  his  face  — "  he  was  rather  put  out 
when  I  dissected  her  character  for  his  benefit  the 
last  time  I  saw  him.  However,  we'll  clear  it 
up.  Put  on  your  things  and  come." 

She  snatched  her  hat  airily  and  harpooned  it 
with  a  hat-pin,  while  Mrs.  Durham  proceeded  to 
a  more  careful  and  leisurely  toilet. 

"  I'm  glad  we're  going  to  have  it  out  while 
I'm  still  hot  and  have  it  all  fresh  in  my  mind," 
Mrs.  Durham  remarked,  as  they  emerged  from 
the  building  into  the  raw  air  of  the  outside  world. 


198 


But  Victoria  spoke  not  at  all  during  their  hasty 
journey  to  the  old  Verplank  mansion. 

As  they  turned  the  corner  they  caught  a  glimpse 
of  Morton  just  disappearing  between  the  storm 
doors.  Victoria  was  somewhat  taken  aback,  but 
Mrs.  Durham  laughed. 

"  All  the  better,  before  two  witnesses.  Now  for 
it." 

They  alighted,  paid  the  cabby,  and  mounted  the 
steps  slowly.  Victoria's  heart  beat  hard,  for  she 
heartily  hated  a  scene,  while  her  friend  as  heartily 
rejoiced  as  she  saw  a  fresh  incident  for  her  new 
novel  rapidly  developing  in  real  life.  They  were 
admitted  by  the  butler,  who  held  aside  the  green 
curtains  of  the  reception-room  into  which  they 
passed  single  file. 

Morton  and  Philippa  rose  from  the  divan  some 
what  hastily,  and  Philippa  held  out  her  hand  with 
languid  grace  and  a  murmur  of  "  So  glad,"  which 
froze  on  her  lips  as  Victoria  deliberately  thrust 
both  hands  in  her  muff,  and  Mrs.  Durham's  clear, 
light  eyes  gimleted  into  her  hostess's  violet  orbs. 
She  opened  the  battle  without  parley. 

"  Miss  Ford,  I  have  come  with  Miss  Claudel, 

199 


WHITEWASH 

as  a  married  woman  and  her  close  friend,  to  de 
mand  of  you  the  meaning  of  certain  lies  I  have 
heard  coming  unmistakably  from  you,  which  con 
cern  the  private  character  of  Miss  Claudel." 

Philippa's  jaw  dropped.  In  spite  of  her  great 
self-control,  she  could  not  prevent  an  anxious 
glance  in  the  direction  of  her  lover.  In  a  flash 
she  realized  that  she  had  overreached  herself. 
That  in  her  anxiety  to  help  and  shield  Valdeck, 
she  had  exposed  her  own  precious  person. 

Victoria,  having  the  most  at  stake,  was  the  most 
nervous  of  all,  and  her  pallor  was  misinterpreted 
by  Philippa,  who,  to  do  her  justice,  had  not  the 
slightest  doubt  of  the  truth  of  Valdeck's  state 
ment.  She  pulled  herself  together  haughtily,  ig 
noring  Mrs.  Durham's  speech. 

"  I  notice,"  she  said,  icily,  "  that  Miss  Claudel 
has  very  little  to  say  for  herself  in  this  matter. 
Doubtless  you  have  dragged  her  into  the  inter 
view  against  her  wishes.  But  as  Miss  Claudel 
has  been  one  of  my  friends,  for  her  sake  I  will 
let  what  you  say  pass." 

Victoria  recovered  her  power  of  speech. 
"  What  on  earth  are  you  saying,  Philippa  ?  I 
200 


WHITEWASH 

don't  understand  you.  You  seem  to  think  I  have 
something  to  hide !  " 

"Really!" 

Victoria's  face  hardened.  "  We  have  come  to 
ask  you  from  whom  you  obtained  this  pretended 
information,  as  we  have  traced  most  of  the  current 
gossip  to  you." 

Morton  had  held  his  breath  for  some  moments. 
This  being  in  the  presence  of  a  three-cornered 
woman's  conflict  daunted  him,  as  it  well  might 
any  man,  however  stout-hearted,  particularly 
when  one  of  the  contestants  happens  to  be  a 
fiancee,  and  another  a  lifelong  friend.  His  loyalty 
to  Victoria  flamed  up  with  the  hope  that  she  might 
clear  herself  of  the  accusations  brought  against 
her.  For  an  instant  he  almost  hoped  she  would 
avenge  the  hurt.  Then  the  loveliness  of  Philippa 
triumphed,  and  he  felt  only  the  sting  of  the  insult 
offered  her.  Her  voice  came  to  him  cold  and 
distinct. 

"  I  have  heard  this  story  from  more  than  one 
reliable  source;  but  as  the  information  was  con 
fidential.  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  give  names." 


20 1 


WHITEWASH 

"  Then,"  broke  in  Mrs.  Durham,  "  Miss  Clau- 
del's  suit  for  slander  will  be  brought  against  you." 

"Suit  for  slander!"  Philippa  murmured, 
aghast. 

"  Suit  for  slander !  "  Morton  exclaimed,  in 
anger. 

"  Suit  for  slander,  Miss  Ford,"  repeated  Mrs. 
Durham,  coolly.  "What  else  do  you  expect? 
You  could  have  foreseen  that  from  the  beginning. 
Such  infamous  lies  are  not  put  into  circulation 
without  — ' 

"Lies!"  hotly  interrupted  Morton,  to  whom 
Philippa  gladly  ceded  the  floor.  "  Lies !  Let  me 
tell  you  —  no,  Philippa,  permit  me  to  handle  this 
case  for  you;  it  is  my  right.  Ladies,  Miss  Ford 
is  engaged  to  me,  and  —  " 

He  stopped  short  at  sight  of  the  blank  sorrow 
and  surprise  on  Victoria's  face. 

Forgetting  all  but  her  old  affection  for  Morton  ; 
forgetting  the  object  of  her  visit  and  Philippa's 
presence,  she  advanced  to  him  with  a  sudden  ges 
ture  as  if  to  shield  him  from  a  blow. 

"  Oh,  Morton !    No !  no !    You  can't  mean  it !  " 


202 


WHITEWASH 

The  words  were  wrung  from  her  by  sudden 
emotion.  There  was  no  doubting  their  sincerity. 

Mrs.  Durham  was  silent  with  surprise;  but 
Philippa  was  eloquent  with  mortally  wounded 
pride. 

"  You  dare  speak  so!  to  my  very  face!  "  she 
cried,  crimson  with  passion.  "  You  —  a  notorious 
woman  —  yes,  notorious !  a  woman  who  loses  her 
character  wilfully,  and  then  attempts  to  blacken 
a  man's  reputation  with  the  meanest,  most  despic 
able  lies !  "  She  choked  with  anger. 

Mrs.  Durham  turned  on  her  fiercely.  "  So  you 
make  this  statement  as  a  matter  of  personal  knowl 
edge,  do  you?  Mr.  Conway,  you  heard  what 
Miss  Ford  has  just  said  —  not  even  referring  to 
any  informant,  but  making  a  statement  pure  and 
simple." 

Philippa  exploded  again. 

"  And  you !  —  you !  Leave  this  house  at  once !  " 

Morton  restrained  her. 

"Philippa,  dear,  don't!  You  forget  yourself. 
Mrs.  Durham,  I  hardly  think  Miss  Ford  can 
continue  this  painful  interview." 

"  I  won't  be  quiet !  I  won't  be  silenced !  I 

203 


WHITEWASH 

will  speak  out!  How  dare  you,"  she  cried  to 
Victoria,  for  hysteria  had  its  grip  on  her,  "  you, 
who  haven't  a  shred  of  decency !  " 

Mrs.  Durham  turned  white,  and  her  voice  had 
the  edge  of  a  frosted  knife  as  it  cut  to  the  quick. 

"  So,  Miss  Ford,  no  shred  of  decency !  And 
what  do  you  say  of  a  young  woman  who  dines 
in  a  private  room  with  a  foreigner  whom  she 
scarcely  knows,  when  it  seems  she  is  engaged  to 
another  man  —  dines  in  a  private  room  in  the 
most  disreputable  restaurant  in  the  city!  Yes, 
I  mean  you,  Miss  Ford !  " 

There  was  a  moment  of  awful  suspense.  Phi- 
lippa,  taken  completely  off  her  guard,  saw  her 
world  crumbling  about  her.  Her  face  twitched 
pitifully  for  an  instant,  and  her  knees  bent.  She 
sank  on  the  divan  with  a  strange,  broken  awk 
wardness. 

Victoria,  no  less  astonished,  looked  at  Mrs. 
Durham  blankly.  But  that  lady  stood  her  ground 
with  the  calm  relentlessness  of  an  executioner. 

Morton's  voice  was  hoarse  and  trembling  as 
he  turned  on  her. 

"  You  shall  answer  to  me  for  this." 
204 


WHITEWASH 

"I  shall  be  delighted,"  she  replied.  "My 
proofs,  unlike  Miss  Ford's,  will  be  readily  forth 
coming.  When  would  you  like  to  see  them?  " 

Philippa  sprang  to  her  feet. 

"  Morton,  if  you  love  me,  don't  give  them  the 
satisfaction  of  listening.  You  know  it  isn't  true. 
Can't  you  see  that  they  are  trying  to  draw  your 
attention  from  Victoria  by  making  this  attack 
on  me?  " 

Mrs.  Durham  persisted,  coldly.  "  Miss  Ford, 
will  you  mention  your  informant  in  the  matter 
of  these  accusations  against  Miss  Claudel  ?  " 

Philippa  was  infuriated. 

"  I  will  not !  I  will  not !  "  she  insisted,  and  then, 
with  a  high  scream  of  laughter,  she  burst  into 
tears. 

No  one  had  heard  the  bell,  or  the  opening  of 
the  door,  and  not  until  Valdeck  was  actually 
ushered  into  the  room,  did  any  one  realize  the 
presence  of  an  outsider. 

He  took  in  the  situation,  and  paled. 

"  Excuse  me  —  I  —  intrude." 

He  was  about  to  withdraw,  when  Victoria 
barred  his  way. 

205 


WHITEWASH 

"  No,"  she  cried,  "  you  come  most  opportunely. 
You  may  clear  up  matters.  Miss  Ford,  or  some 
one  else,  has  accused  me  of  Heaven  knows  what 
kind  of  a  love-affair  in  Paris  —  and  with  you ! 
Do  you  dare  to  make  such  a  statement?  " 

"  I  understand,"  Valdeck  answered,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  "  that  you  have  made  the 
statement  that  I  was  wanted  for  —  Heaven  knows 
what  crime  in  France.  I  have  to  thank  you.  I 
think,  for  an  investigation  of  my  effects  recently 
made,  and  the  espionage  of  the  police  —  the 
stories  balance  each  other." 

Victoria's  jaw  fell.     "  Do  you  mean  —  ' 

"  One  story  is  as  true  as  the  other,"  he  an 
swered,  lightly. 

"  What  I  said  was  true!  "  she  broke  in,  hotly. 
"I  will  swear  to  it!" 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Then  you  cannot 
expect  me  to  deny.  But  I  fear  it  will  require 
more  than  your  testimony,  Miss  Claudel  - 

A  sudden  cessation  of  Philippa's  tears,  and  a 
quick  exclamation  from  Morton  broke  in  on  them. 

"  She's  dying !  —  quick,  quick  —  water  —  a 
doctor !  "  Then  turning  savagely  on  Victoria  and 
206 


WHITEWASH 

Mrs.  Durham,  Morton  raged,  "  You've  killed  her 
—  you've  killed  her !  " 

Mrs.  Durham  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  Faint 
ing  is  an  easy  way  of  avoiding  an  awkward  situa 
tion,"  she  observed,  sententiously. 

"  I  will  go  for  a  doctor,"  volunteered  Valdeck. 

"  You  stay  and  see  it  out ! "  Victoria  com 
manded. 

But  Valdeck  was  already  in  the  hall  and  hurry 
ing  down  the  steps  to  his  hansom. 

"  Go !  "  commanded  Morton,  fiercely,  "  go ! 
You  have  killed  her !  " 

"  John,"  said  Mrs.  Durham  to  the  butler,  as 
she  passed  out,  "  go  fetch  a  maid  to  attend  Miss 
Ford." 


207 


CHAPTER    VI. 

A  HE  next  morning  Philippa  lay  in  her  elab 
orate  bed  with  the  violet  hangings,  and  ruminated. 
She  was  charming  in  a  white  silk  negligee,  her 
yellow  hair  softly  framing  the  interesting  pallor 
of  her  face  and  the  not  unbecoming  lustre  of  her 
weary,  sleep-hungry  eyes.  She  was  conscious  of 
it,  but  was  too  miserable  to  feel  satisfied.  For  the 
first  time  in  her  life  she  admitted  a  doubt  of 
her  talent  as  a  diplomat,  and  a  dawn  of  real  con 
ditions  vaguely  lighted  her  mind.  She  realized 
that  her  conceit,  her  belief  in  her  own  social 
invulnerability,  had  led  her  into  a  terrible  impasse. 
She  twisted  uncomfortably  and  drew  the  bed 
clothes  round  her  as  she  contemplated  the  situa 
tion.  She  strove  to  collect  her  wits  and  think 
clearly;  but  memories  of  the  previous  day  rose 
suddenly  before  her,  visioned  with  insistent  ter- 
208 


ror.  She  flushed  crimson  with  mortification  and 
rage. 

She  was  loath  to  admit  it,  but  she  had  bungled, 
bungled  fearfully.  And  worst  of  all,  what  must 
Valdeck  think  of  her!  She  had  talked  too  much 
for  either  his  plans  or  hers.  And  she  began  to 
realize  in  what  dangerous  places  she  had  spread 
her  fatal  information.  She  had  left  her  tracks 
uncovered.  She  moaned  aloud  and  twisted  anew, 
recalling  a  thousand  insinuations  she  had  let  fall, 
a  thousand  confidences  rawly  made.  She  had 
committed  herself,  and  must  take  the  blame  or 
openly  throw  it  on  Valdeck  —  where  it  belonged. 
Here  she  buried  her  face  in  the  pillow  in  agony. 
She  could  not  do  that ;  she  must  shield  him. 

The  one  spark  of  womanhood  in  her  false  and 
selfish  nature  was  awake  at  last  in  his  service. 
She  loved  him !  She  knew  it  now !  Loved  him ! 
loved  him ! 

She  lay  still  for  some  moments,  buried  in  a 
blissful  misery.  Then  she  shivered  convulsively. 
And  what  of  her  dinner  with  him  at  Gagano's? 
She  had  been  seen  —  by  whom  ?  Mrs.  Durham 
had  the  story  straight  enough.  But  Valdeck 

209 


WHITEWASH 

would  deny  it ;  she  would  deny  it.  Mrs.  Denison 
would  substantiate  her  story  of  dinner  with  her. 
But  the  husband  —  Philippa's  conceit  lifted  its 
humbled  head  —  he  would  have  to  be  won  over. 
Morton  would  never  believe  it.  But  heavens ! 
how  near  she  had  been  to  betraying  herself  when 
the  mine  was  sprung.  She  congratulated  herself 
on  her  fainting  fit,  the  first  well-managed  move 
of  her  disastrous  campaign. 

She  glanced  at  the  little  silver  clock  on  the 
table  by  her  bedside,  sat  up  and  rubbed  her  face, 
stiff  from  the  night's  visions  and  vigil. 

"  Come  what  would,"  she  thought,  "  she  must 
fulfil  her  duty  to  Valdeck.  She  had  his  secret 
in  her  keeping.  More  than  that,  concealed  under 
the  bed  lay  a  despatch-box  that  contained  the  trust 
moneys  of  the  '  Polish  Educational  Society.'  '  A 
glow  of  returning  self-respect  passed  over  her,  as 
she  thought  of  the  confidence  he  reposed  in  her. 
"  Hers  was  the  hand  he  had  selected  to  help  him 
in  his  hour  of  need."  She  recalled  the  momen 
tous  interview  when  he  had  begged  her  to  keep 
his  treasure  for  him  until  such  time  as  she  should 


210 


WHITEWASH 

be  able  safely  to  transfer  it,  and  the  directions  she 
had  received  for  its  disposal. 

She  was  on  the  point  of  getting  out  of  bed 
to  make  sure  that  the  box  was  still  there,  when 
she  distinguished  her  aunt's  step  in  the  hall,  and 
quickly  sank  back  among  her  lace-frilled  pillows. 

Mrs.  Ford  did  not  give  herself  the  trouble  of 
knocking,  but  marched  magnificently  into  the 
sanctuary  of  beauty.  She  was  clad  in  a  walking- 
suit  of  a  military  cut  and  many  brass  buttons,  and 
was  even  more  than  usual  the  drum-major.  Her 
face  suggested  court-martial,  however,  and  Phi- 
lippa  winced.  The  aunt  stood  for  a  moment  by 
the  bed,  and  regarded  the  niece  with  cold-blooded 
appraisal. 

''  You  are  a  good-looking  girl,"  she  remarked, 
at  length ;  "  and  I  have  made  considerable  sacri 
fices  of  my  comfort,  as  a  speculation  on  your 
chances.  But  it  seems  you  are  a  fool !  —  and  so 
am  I,  for  believing  in  you." 

Philippa  rolled  over,  and  presented  a  view  of 
her  back. 

"  I  am  informed  that  there  was  a  scene  here 


21  I 


yesterday,  in  which  Miss  Claudel,  Mrs.  Durham, 
Morton  Conway,  and  that  Valdeck  participated." 

'  You  have  been  gossiping  with  the  servants, 
I  see,"  commented  her  listener. 

Mrs.  Ford  flushed,  but  continued,  icily : 

"  Never  mind  how  I  secured  my  information ; 
I  have  secured  it  —  that  is  the  principal  thing. 
But  from  what  I  heard  yesterday  in  several 
houses  I  expected  some  trouble.  There  are  many 
unpleasant  stories  afoot  concerning  Victoria  Clau 
del,  and  every  one  quotes  you  as  authority." 

Philippa  groaned  inwardly. 

"  Who  told  you  such  an  extraordinary  thing? 
I  can  guess,  if  the  world  can  not.  And  it  strikes 
me  that  your  intimacy  with  Valdeck  must  have 
reached  a  remarkable  pass  before  he  would  con 
fide  to  you  his  love-affairs,  real  or  invented.  Now 
if  you  give  Valdeck  as  authority  for  this  scandal, 
the  world  will  say  what  I  have  said.  If  you 
do  not  quote  Valdeck,  you  must  answer  for  the 
story  yourself.  Now  what  will  you  do?" 

There  was  silence  in  the  abode  of  beauty. 

"  There  is  only  one  way  for  you  to  clear  the 
board.  Get  Morton  to  marry  you  at  once,  quietly, 
212 


WHITEWASH 

and  go  abroad.  You  haven't  sense  enough  to 
think  of  that  for  yourself,  so  I  came  to  tell  you. 
And  another  thing.  If  you  want  to  save  your 
self,  drop  that  scallawag  Pole.  Furthermore,  if 
the  worst  happens,  you  needn't  come  to  me  — 
with  a  slander  suit  on  your  hands,  your  engage 
ment  broken  off  by  Morton,  and  the  open  secret 
of  your  affection  for  a  man  whose  popularity  is 
entirely  mushroom,  and  of  whom  nothing  is 
known  except  a  few  letters  of  introduction  care 
lessly  given." 

Mrs.  Ford  rose  without  relaxing  the  austere 
anger  of  her  face,  and  sailed  majestically  from 
the  room. 

"  Devil !  devil !  devil !  devil !  "  said  Philippa, 
under  her  breath,  as  the  door  closed  upon  her. 

Philippa  endured  another  half-hour  of  agonized 
contemplation  of  her  life's  chessboard.  At  the 
end  of  that  time  she  rose,  fagged  and  worn,  and 
looked  about  her  miserably.  Her  aunt  was  right. 
She  must  sacrifice  Valdeck,  marry  Morton,  and 
go  abroad.  Her  hand  sunk  limply  in  her  lap  as 
she  seated  herself  on  the  edge  of  her  bed. 

"  Sacrifice  Valdeck !     Never  see  him  again  — 

213 


WHITEWASH 

never  again !  "  For  a  moment  she  sat  staring  in 
the  mirror  before  her,  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life  blind  to  her  own  image. 

Suddenly  something  deep  within  her  seemed  to 
break.  She  heard  a  sob,  realized  that  it  came 
from  her  own  aching  throat,  and  throwing  her 
self  on  her  bed  again,  she  gave  herself  up  to  a 
passion  of  weeping  —  not  tears  such  as  she  had 
shed  before,  but  tears  that  seemed  to  swell  and 
rise  from  the  very  depths  of  her  heart,  and  to  find 
their  way  to  her  eyes  in  hopeless  agony. 

How  long  she  lay  crying  she  did  not  know,  but 
at  last,  realizing  that  action  would  soon  be  re 
quired  of  her,  she  washed  her  red  and  swollen 
eyes  and  proceeded  to  her  toilet,  which  had 
somehow  lost  its  usual  charm.  She  dispensed 
with  the  services  of  the  maid,  preferring  solitude 
and  the  difficulties  of  hooking  her  own  collar. 
She  selected  the  plainest  tailor  gown  and  most 
sad-colored  blouse,  theatrical  to  the  last.  As  the 
final  hook  was  fastened,  and  the  last  pin  adjusted, 
a  timid  knock  called  her  attention. 

The  maid  entered,  with  such  an  assumed  look 
of  unconcern  that  Philippa  was  unpleasantly  con- 
214 


WHITEWASH 

scious  of  the  inevitable  talk  below-stairs,  occa 
sioned  by  yesterday's  storm.  The  woman  pre 
sented  the  silver  tray  on  which  lay  her  mistress's 
morning  mail.  Philippa  collected  it  quickly  and 
nodded  dismissal.  She  had  hoped  for  a  word 
from  Valdeck.  There  was  only  a  wedding-card, 
a  note  from  the  dressmaker,  and  a  plain  envelope 
with  a  typewritten  address,  that  she  left  to  the 
last,  thinking  it  an  advertisement  or  a  bill. 
Its  contents,  however,  stopped  her  heart  and  then 
set  it  going  violently. 

A  few  lines  in  the  well-known  handwriting: 

"  MY  BELOVED  LADY  PHILIPPA  :  —  One  last 
service  I  beg  of  you.  Go  to  the  Germanic,  which 
sails  to-morrow,  Wednesday,  at  two.  Give  the 
box  to  a  lady  who  will  meet  you  there  in  State 
room  148.  She  will  wear  a  tan  ulster  with  blue 
velvet  collar  and  hold  a  bunch  of  carnations. 
Address  her  in  French  as  Madame  Tolle.  I  am 
watched  too  carefully  to  trust  putting  in  an  ap 
pearance;  but  I  trust  you  even  as  I  would  myself. 
God  reward  you,  my  beloved,  my  own,  for  your 
goodness  to  me  and  a  just  and  noble  cause." 

215 


WHITEWASH 

Obviously  this  had  been  written  before  the 
scene  of  the  previous  afternoon.  She  consulted 
the  postmark  and  found  she  was  right. 

"Two  o'clock!"  She  glanced  at  her  watch. 
"  Half-past  twelve  already !  "  Hastily  pinning  on 
her  toque  and  selecting  a  blue  chiffon  veil  that 
disguised  while  it  enhanced  her  charm,  she  pulled 
out  the  despatch-box  from  its  place  of  conceal 
ment.  It  was  very  heavy.  Wrapping  it  about 
in  thick  paper  till  it  resembled  a  large  package 
of  books,  she  addressed  it  to  Mme.  Tolle,  Room 
148,  S.  S.  Germanic,  in  case  anything  should  pre 
vent  her  interview  with  the  mysterious  woman. 
Going  down-stairs,  she  notified  the  butler  that 
she  would  not  be  home  to  lunch.  Then  she  ate 
a  cracker  and  drank  a  glass  of  sherry,  for  her 
emotions  had  consumed  her  strength.  This  done, 
she  started  on  her  journey. 

At  the  door  a  qualm  of  fear  caught  her.  Her 
aunt's  words  rang  in  her  ears :  "  Drop  that  scalla- 
wag  Pole  if  you  want  to  save  yourself."  But  the 
warning  passed  unheeded.  Her  love,  now  watered 
by  her  tears,  had  grown  in  strength  and  lux 
uriance.  She  would  serve  him  in  this  last  re- 
216 


S      H 

quest.  She  would  save  him  and  the  cause  he 
loved,  even  if  she  must  put  him  out  of  her  life 
forever,  after  this  one  last  effort  to  play  his  provi 
dence. 

She  called  a  cab,  and  sank  upon  its  cushions 
restfully.  The  jangle  of  harness  and  the  rattle 
of  wheels  made  a  soothing  music  to  her  strained 
and  quivering  nerves. 

When  she  reached  the  long  wharf,  Philippa 
woke  from  her  apathy,  and  telling  the  man  to 
wait,  made  her  way  under  the  huge  shed,  among 
the  throng  of  travellers,  agents,  baggage-men, 
and  teamsters.  All  was  bustle  and  confusion, 
swinging  crates  and  banging  trunks.  The  gang 
ways  were  thronged  by  hurrying  men,  people 
hung  over  the  rail  and  talked  to  others  on 
the  dock.  Stewards  flew  by,  carrying  hand- 
luggage*  marked  "  Wanted  " ;  steamer-trunks 
bumped  along  toward  the  second  deck,  where 
busy  men  lined  them  up  for  the  sloping  gang 
way  of  the  first  cabin.  She  went  directly  to  the 
saloon,  all  mahogany  and  gold,  plate-glass  and 
shimmering  brass-work.  There  were  heaps  of 
flowers,  books,  and  candy-boxes  lying  on  the  long, 

217 


WHITEWASH 

stationary  tables.  Excited  people  were  claiming 
their  belongings,  or  holding  high-voiced  conver 
sations.  The  stewards  rushed  madly  by,  beset 
with  countless  questions,  and  unable  or  unwilling 
to  answer  any.  Philippa  had  to  wait.  A  hasty 
exploration  of  the  corridor  near  at  hand  showed 
her  that,  numerically,  she  was  far  from  her  des 
tination.  A  fair-haired,  stupid-eyed,  German 
cabin-boy,  who  hugged  a  trumpet  and  gazed 
vacantly  on  her,  was  at  last  persuaded  to  inform 
her  that  148  would  be  on  the  other  side,  and  "oop- 
stairs." 

Following  his  directions,  Philippa  at  last  found 
the  cabin  numbers  dwindling — 180,  176.  She 
came  out  of  one  of  the  side  aisles,  and  came  face 
to  face  with  Victoria  Claudel.  The  shock  was 
so  great  that  she  almost  dropped  the  treasure- 
box.  But  Victoria,  who  was  bidding  an  affec 
tionate  farewell  to  a  girl  friend,  merely  turned 
her  back  and  proceeded  with  her  conversation. 

Philippa  had  to  pass  them  to  reach  her  number, 
and  a  dull  fear  crossed  her  heart  as  if  she  had 
neared  something  baneful.  Again  her  aunt's 


218 


WHITEWASH 

words  rang  in  her  ears :  "  Drop  that  scallawag 
Pole  if  you  want  to  save  yourself!  " 

She  was  on  the  brink  of  a  nervous  collapse, 
but  blind  td  her  danger.  An  open  door  attracted 
her  attention.  Over  it  was  the  number  148.  The 
light  from  the  port-hole  showed  the  simple,  yet 
luxurious  cabin  furnishings.  On  the  sofa  bunk, 
with  her  back  to  the  light,  sat  a  tall  woman,  wear 
ing  a  modish,  forward-tilted  hat  and  a  tan  ulster, 
and  holding  loosely  in  her  lap  a  bunch  of  red 
carnations. 

Philippa  mustered  her  courage,  and  assumed  the 
manner  of  an  old  acquaintance. 

"  I  have  come  to  wish  you  a  pleasant  trip, 
Madame  Tolle,  and  to  bring  you  some  books  to 
lighten  your  journey."  She  spoke  in  French, 
with  an  affected  ease,  but  in  spite  of  herself  her 
voice  was  thin,  excited,  and  broken. 

The  woman  rose  gracefully,  and  greeted  her. 

"  You  are  very  good,"  she  said;  and  she  closed 
the  cabin  door  sharply. 

Philippa,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  deposited  her 
burden  on  the  sofa,  and  stood  awkwardly. 

"  So,"  the  woman  continued,  with  a  strange 

219 


WHITEWASH 

tone  of  irony  and  bitterness,  placing  herself  in 
front  of  the  door.  "  So  you  are  the  creature  who 
has  taken  his  fancy  now,  are  you?  Let  me  ask 
you  this,  madame,  do  you  think  I  have  risked  my 
life  and  freedom  for  him,  that  he  may  spend  his 
love  on  such  as  you,  hem?  It  is  to  the  death 
between  us,  I  warn  you.  Not  yet,  for  we  are  not 
in  a  position,  but  later  —  later !  " 

"Let  me  pass!  "  Philippa  demanded,  hysteric 
ally,  frightened  out  of  her  self-control.  "  I  have 
done  my  duty  —  let  me  go !  I  don't  know  you, 
and  I  don't  understand." 

The  Frenchwoman  laughed,  jeeringly. 

"  Oh,  no.    How  should  you  understand!  " 

A  sound  of  voices  in  the  corridor  made  her 
lower  her  tone.  "  Oh,  no.  But  wait,  wait  till 
we  are  out  of  the  woods ;  then  come  to  France 
if  you  dare,  and  see  what  the  end  will  be." 

Philippa's  nerves  were  giving  way.  She  felt 
ill  and  dizzy ;  but  her  glance  fell  on  the  call- 
bell,  and  her  face  lighted  up. 

"  I  shall  ring,"  she  said,  with  all  the  dignity 
she  could  muster. 

Madame  Tolle  caught  her  hand  just  as  the 
220 


WHITEWASH 

door  she  had  defended  swung  open.  In  the  nar 
row  passage  stood  two  men,  their  eyes  fastened 
on  the  occupants  of  148,  and  Philippa,  seeing  re 
lief  in  their  presence,  sprang  forward. 

Her  antagonist  turned  quickly,  and  caught 
sight  of  the  faces  before  her.  The  change  that 
came  over  her  was  terrible.  She  seemed  to  shrink 
as  in  the  fire  of  a  furnace.  She  backed  away 
slowly,  till  her  foot  caught  on  the  protruding 
corner  of  her  bag.  She  stumbled  against  the 
wash-stand  and  clung  to  it  for. support. 

Philippa,  having  no  key  to  the  situation,  looked 
astonishment  not  unmixed  with  relief.  She  hur 
ried  across  the  raised  threshold,  trembling  and 
pale. 

"  That  woman  is  mad !  "  she  said,  brokenly. 

One  of  the  men  stepped  to  her  side  and  caught 
her  with  a  detaining  hand. 

"  You  cannot  go,  madame  —  pardon  me.  You 
had  better  say  nothing,"  he  added,  in  a  lower  tone. 
"  Anything  you  might  say  would  be  used  against 
you." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Philippa  demanded, 
fiercely. 

221 


WHITEWASH 

But  there  was  no  leisure  for  questions  or  an 
swers. 

A  smothered  exclamation  sounded  from  within, 
a  quick  rush,  and  through  the  open  door  they 
saw  the  other  man  close  with  the  tall  figure  of  the 
woman.  Her  hand  was  slowly  forced  above  her 
head.  In  it  she  held  a  small  revolver.  The  fingers 
clinched,  there  was  a  sharp  report,  a  whiff  of 
smoke  —  a  hole  in  the  ceiling. 

Philippa  moved  as  if  to  run  out.  The  grip 
on  her  arm  was  tightened. 

Down  the  main  corridor  a  confusion  of  hasten 
ing  feet  and  frightened  voices  announced  the 
panic  caused  by  the  shot.  She  saw  the  steel 
handcuffs  slip  over  the  helpless  hands  of  Madame 
Tolle.  A  third  man  slipped  by  them  and  quickly 
gathered  up  the  scattered  baggage,  the  despatch- 
box,  and  two  hand-bags.  In  another  instant  they 
were  surrounded  by  anxious,  inquiring  faces.  She 
was  being  conducted  to  the  main  corridor;  pres 
ently  they  would  be  in  the  saloon. 

Philippa  staggered  and  gasped. 

"  Brace  up,"  said  her  captor,  not  unkindly. 
"  I'll  take  you  through  as  if  you  had  nothing  to 

222 


WHITEWASH 

do  with  it.  You're  not  an  old  hand."  He  looked 
at  her  admiringly.  "  Bad  company,  my  girl,  bad 
company." 

Her  tongue  clove  to  the  roof  of  her  mouth. 
There  in  the  crowd  stood  Victoria,  looking  at  her. 
She  tried  to  raise  her  head  and  walk  haughtily 
by,  but  she  could  not.  Her  eyes  would  fix  them 
selves  on  the  face  of  her  former  friend.  She 
saw  an  expression  of  the  utmost  amazement  cross 
Victoria's  face,  saw  those  fine,  fearless  gray  eyes 
travel  back  to  her  with  sudden  comprehension. 

Victoria  slipped  from  her  place  with  a  matter- 
of-fact  air,  and  quietly  joined  her. 

"  Permit  me  to  accompany  this  lady,"  she  said, 
leaning  across  and  addressing  the  detective  in 
a  low  voice.  "  There  is  some  mistake." 

He  looked  at  her  sharply,  and  nodded. 

"  Every  one  is  leaving  the  ship,"  she  continued, 
gently,  in  Philippa's  ear.  "  Lower  your  veil,  walk 
easily,  and  nobody  will  guess  —  talk  to  me ;  seem 
interested." 

Philippa  turned  her  tortured  eyes  to  Victoria, 
but  her  paralyzed  tongue  could  form  no  sound. 

They  reached  the  gangplank  and  the  dock,  con- 

223 


WHITEWASH 

scious  that  the  attention  of  the  crowd  was  centred 
on  the  figures  that  followed  them.  There  was  a 
confused  murmur  of  voices  and  exclamations. 

"  Turn  round  and  look  as  if  you,  too,  were 
interested,"  commanded  Victoria,  and  the  helpless 
Philippa  obeyed. 

"  This  way,"  directed  their  conductor,  indi 
cating  a  waiting  cab.  "  We  have  two,  for  we 
expected  to  land  the  gentleman  himself  —  not 
this  lady,  though.  The  whole  affair  is  a  pretty 
rum  go." 

"  I'm  coming  with  you,"  Victoria  observed, 
determinedly.  "  This  lady  can  prove  her  inno 
cence,  I  am  sure.  And  she  should  be  protected." 

Without  waiting  for  consent  or  refusal,  she 
entered  the  cab  and  assisted  Philippa,  who  was 
spent  and  trembling. 

The  detective  let  down  the  little  seat  in  front 
of  them,  slammed  the  door,  and  the  cab  lurched 
forward  to.ward  the  police-station. 


224 


CHAPTER    VII. 

OR  some  time  Philippa,  utterly  dazed,  lay 
back  among  the  cushions,  gazing  vacantly  into 
the  face  of  her  captor,  who  sat  opposite,  a  square- 
headed  man,  with  beady  eyes  and  a  thin,  deter 
mined  mouth,  while  Victoria  sat  and  wondered 
ruefully  at  her  own  quixotism.  She  had  no 
cause  to  love  Philippa;  but  she  had  obeyed  the 
impulse  of  class.  She  had  seen  one  of  her  own 
world  suddenly  caught  in  this  equivocal  net,  and 
had  turned  to  help,  forgetting  for  the  moment 
her  wrongs  at  the  hands  of  this  woman. 

Sharply  Philippa  straightened  herself,  and  as 
if  her  stolen  voice  had  suddenly  been  returned 
to  her,  burst  out :  "  What  do  you  mean  ?  How 
dare  you  arrest  me?  What  have  I  done?  It's 
wicked  —  it's  cruel !  Tell  me  this  instant!  " 

"  Now,  lady,"  the  detective  said,  soothingly, 
"  don't  you  get  riled ;  just  you  be  quiet.  You're 

225 


WHITEWASH 

not  used  to  this  sort  of  thing,  I  know,  and  I  tell 
you  the  best  thing  to  do  is  to  say  nothing  at  all; 
it's  safest." 

"  But  what  for  —  what  for  ?  It's  some  horrid 
plot  —  it's  your  doing,"  she  cried,  suddenly  open 
ing  fire  on  Victoria.  "  It's  you  —  you  informed 
on  him  —  you  did !  And  now  he'll  be  sent  to 
Russia  or  Siberia !  And  all  because  he  wanted  to 
help  a  poor,  down-trodden  people!  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about!  " 
said  Victoria,  angrily.  "  I  saw  you  in  distress, 
and  I  came  to  shield  you  from  the  crowd.  As  to 
informing,  I  told  you  the  whole  story,  and  that 
I  had  gone  to  the  French  consul.  I  suppose  this 
had  something  to  do  with  Valdeck?  "  she  added, 
addressing  the  detective. 

"  Yes,  mum,"  he  nodded,  "  and  from  what  I 
heard  you  say,  I  take  you  to  be  the  lady  who 
gave  the  clew.  Did  you  recognize  the  woman  — 
the  other  woman  ?  " 

Victoria  shook  her  head.  "  I  didn't  see  her," 
she  answered.  "  Who  is  she?  " 

He  looked  at  her  sagely.  "  Big  game,"  he  said, 
"  and  came  mighty  near  giving  us  the  slip.  The 
226 


WHITEWASH 

next  thing  is  to  make  her  tell  where  the  gent 
is.  Here  we  are,  ladies  —  not  far  to  go.  Now, 
my  girl,  you  be  careful  how  you  talk.  I  know 
you  —  you  all  get  hysterical  the  first  time  you're 
caught,  but  just  you  hang  on  to  yourself." 

The  cab  stopped  short,  and  the  door  was 
opened  by  a  police  sergeant,  who  stood  aside  as 
the  trio  descended  from  the  vehicle  to  the  stone- 
paved  court,  surrounded  by  official-looking  build 
ings.  The  hack  turned  and  departed,  making 
room  for  the  second  cab,  from  which  Madame 
Tolle  and  her  two  companions  emerged. 

The  whole  party  filed  into  the  large,  bare  wait 
ing-room,  lighted  by  a  gray-white  shine  of  day 
light  filtered  through  pebbled  glass.  An  immense 
desk  similar  to  those  used  in  hotels  filled  one  side 
of  the  place;  a  telephone,  a  huge  metal  safe, 
still  suggestive  of  a  cheap  hostelry,  and  wooden 
benches  made  up  the  furniture.  Behind  the  desk  a 
police  captain  stood  twirling  his  mustache. 

As  the  party  entered,  he  reached  for  a  huge 
ledger,  and  opening  it,  gave  it  a  twist  toward 
the  arrivals,  but  on  recognizing  the  detectives, 
he  nodded,  and  closed  the  register  with  a  bang. 

227 


WHITEWASH 

His  glance  fell  admiringly  upon  the  three  women, 
of  whom  only  Victoria  was  unveiled. 

The  detectives  advanced  to  the  captain,  and  a 
low-voiced  conversation  ensued,  in  which  the 
words  "  small  book,"  and  "  French  consul  "  were 
repeated  at  intervals. 

Philippa  shivered  as  with  cold,  and  leaned 
against  the  desk  helplessly.  Victoria  bent  toward 
her,  touched  by  her  misery.  "  Ask  for  a  lawyer," 
she  suggested,  softly.  "  You  have  a  right  to  that, 
I  know." 

"Here,  you!"  interrupted  the  captain,  "no 
whispering  with  the  prisoner.  Say,  Pollock, 
who's  that?" 

"  Miss  Claudel,  who  gave  the  information  to 
the  consul  —  so  she  said.  It  seems  she  knows  the 
other  lady  who  brought  the  box." 

"  Hum,"  said  the  captain,  "  I  suppose  we  had 
better  do  a  bit  of  telephoning  here.  Mulligan, 
ring  up  the  consulate." 

"  I  want  a  lawyer,"  begged  Philippa,  timidly. 

"  Do,  eh?  Well,  I  suppose  you  can  have  one. 
Who?" 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  vainly  trying  to  col- 
228 


WHITEWASH 

lect  her  scattered  memory.  "  Mr.  Pendle,  I2OA 
Broadway  —  Pendle  &  Brown.  They  are  my 
aunt's  attorneys." 

"  Your  name?  "  demanded  the  officer. 

"  Philippa  Clensdale  Ford,  of  Madison 

Avenue." 

"  Very  well.  Now  we  will  see  what  we  have 
here." 

The  two  hand-bags  and  the  iron  despatch-box 
were  laid  on  the  table,  and  after  a  few  attempts 
the  lock  of  the  latter  was  forced,  and  the  lid 
thrown  back,  revealing  a  layer  of  white  cotton. 

"  Inventory,"  ordered  the  captain. 

The  sergeant  prepared  to  note  the  contents. 
There  was  a  moment's  tense  silence  as  the  con 
cealing  batting  was  removed,  revealing  a  number 
of  tiny  packages  wrapped  in  tissue-paper.  The 
clumsy,  hairy  fingers  of  the  officer  unfolded  one 
picked  up  at  random.  There  was  a  glitter,  a 
sparkle,  and  a  flash  as  the  contents  lay  bare  to 
the  light  —  ten  or  more  diamonds  of  various 
sizes. 

A  gasp  from  Philippa  was  the  only  sound  that 
greeted  the  find. 

229 


WHITEWASH 

"  First  package,  twelve  diamonds ;  second  pack 
age,  six  small  emeralds ;  third,  two  large  dia 
monds  ;  fourth,  handful  of  small  stones ;  fifth, 
four  rubies,  one  cat's-eye;  sixth,  eight-strand 
pearl  and  diamond  collar;  seventh,  pearl  rope, 
very  large;  eighth,  large  yellow  diamond;  two 
packets  colored  pearls,  three  pink,  two  brown,  one 
large  black,  pierced." 

There  was  absolute  quiet  as  the  heaps  increased, 
sparkling  as  they  lay  on  their  opened  wrappers. 

Philippa,  her  eyes  dilated,  breathed  hard  in 
terror  as  the  jewels  accumulated.  She  was  stag 
gered  by  the  shock  of  surprise.  All  this  had  been 
left  in  her  charge;  she  had  slept  in  her  violet- 
hung  bed  above  all  this  wealth,  believing  it  but 
a  few  paltry  hundreds  to  be  turned  over  to  a 
deserving  charity.  What  did  it  all  mean  ?  Could 
it  be  that  Valdeck  —  But  no !  impossible !  These 
were  doubtless  the  gifts  of  wealthy  sympathizers. 

The  merciless  counting  went  on.  Would  they 
never  come  to  an  end?  At  last  an  exclamation 
from  the  imperturbable  sergeant  voiced  the  feel 
ings  of  all,  as  he  rolled  in  his  palm  a  huge  brown 
diamond  and  two  solitaires  of  great  size  and  bril- 
230 


WHITEWASH 

liancy.  "  So  help  me,  Mulligan !  "  he  exclaimed, 
"  if  this  ain't  the  swag  of  them  New  Orleans 
robberies  that  we  had  word  of  last  month.  This 
here  brown  shiner  is  the  '  Longosini '  one. 
Where's  that  reward-list?  On  the  board  yonder." 

Mulligan  \vent  to  the  large  blackboard  at  the 
further  end  of  the  room,  whereon  were  pasted 
announcements  of  rewards  for  the  capture  of 
criminals.  "  Yes,  sor,"  he  answered,  from  across 
the  room,  "  it's  themselves !  '  Brown  diamond, 
five  carats,  two  white  and  one  blue,  three  and  a 
half,  three,  and  four  carats  respectively.'  Say, 
Pollock,  you've  made  the  haul  this  time,  and  no 
mistake!  " 

"  Here's  the  blue  one,"  broke  in  the  captain, 
as  he  held  up  a  jewel  between  his  thumb  and 
forefinger.  "  Well,  of  all  the  surprises !  No  bail 
for  this,  I  guess,  —  no,  sir !  " 

"  But,"  cried  Victoria,  "  you  can't  keep  Miss 
Ford  here.  Put  her  under  surveillance  if  you 
must,  —  but  no,  you  can't !  Philippa,  Commis 
sioner  Holes  is  one  of  your  aunt's  friends  —  have 
him  called  up;  he  can  do  more  for  you  here 
than  any  one  else." 

231 


WHITEWASH 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  exclaimed  Philippa,  "  you  must 
let  me  go!  Yes,  telephone  to  Commissioner 
Holes;  tell  him  to  come  himself  and  release 
me.  Oh,  I  don't  know  what  I  shall  do!" 

"  Whew !  "  whistled  the  sergeant,  softly ; 
"Commissioner  Holes,  is  it?  Well,  well,  now! 
But,  Miss  Ford,  how  did  you  come  by  these 
beauties?  Maybe  ye  can  give  us  a  satisfactory 
explanation  ?  " 

"  I  can,  —  oh,  I  can !  "  Philippa  exclaimed, 
pale  with  excitement.  "  Mr.  Valdeck  told  me  he 
was  the  head  of  the  Polish  Educational  Society, 
and  was  collecting  funds  for  the  cause.  He  said 
he  was  watched  by  Russian  spies  and  couldn't 
send  the  money  on  without  being  suspected  and 
having  everything  seized  and  confiscated  when 
it  reached  the  other  side  —  and  of  course  I  be 
lieved  it  all ;  indeed,  I  did !  " 

"  Look  at  that,  now,"  Mulligan  nodded. 
"Russian  spies,  is  it?  Sure,  lady,  it's  the  likes 
of  you  that  makes  the  life  easy  for  scamps  and 
rogues.  And  what  is  the  grand  American  police 
for?  Sure,  we  haven't  no  use  for  nary  a  foreign 
spy." 
232 


WHITEWASH 

"  Shut  up !  "  commanded  the  captain.  "  Miss 
Ford,  have  you  anything  to  prove  your  state 
ment?" 

Philippa  dragged  at  the  bosom  of  her  dress; 
tremblingly  she  undid  the  buttons  and  drew  forth 
two  crumpled  notes.  "There!  there!"  she  cried, 
"  read  them.  See  what  he  says  himself!  " 

The  captain  smoothed  the  rumpled  sheets,  and 
read  aloud. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then  Philippa  wished 
she  had  died  before  she  had  given  up  the  letters. 
As  the  words  of  endearment  spoken  in  the  harsh, 
mechanical  voice  of  the  captain  filled  the  police- 
station,  a  burning,  writhing  shame  overpowered 
her.  She  had  forgotten,  in  her  anxiety  to  clear 
herself,  the  terms  of  the  letters.  She  clung  to  the 
desk,  feeling  Victoria's  honest  gray  eyes  on  her 
burning  with  indignation.  Oh,  that  Victoria,  of 
all  people,  should  see  her  in  this  state! 

As  the  last  sentence  echoed  into  silence,  Ma 
dame  Tolle,  who  up  to  this  moment  had  stood 
silent,  uttered  a  sharp  cry  like  a  hurt  animal  as 
she  recognized  the  handwriting.  Then  she  burst 
into  a  torrent  of  French  abuse  that  made  the 

233 


WHITEWASH 

walls  of  the  station-house  shiver,  used  as  they 
were  to  ungentle  language. 

But  Philippa  was  unconscious  of  this.  All  she 
realized  was  Victoria  —  Victoria,  who  turned  and 
faced  her  with  clenched  hands  and  white  face. 
She  was  speaking  slowly  and  with  terrible  scorn : 
"  And  you  were  engaged  to  Morton  —  you !  I 
thought  there  might  have  been  some  mistake  about 
that  private-room  dinner-party;  I  thought  you 
might  explain,  but  we  hardly  need  go  further !  " 
She  broke  off  and  turned  her  back;  without  an 
other  word  she  moved  toward  the  door. 

"  Hold  on !  Miss  Claudel,  we  want  you,  please. 
The  consul  will  be  here  presently,  and  then  we'll 
need  your  services.  Mulligan,  search  the  bags, 
and  then  take  the  French  woman  to  the  matron 
and  have  her  go  over  her.  But  first,  come  here." 

Madame  Tolle  was  led  forward.  "  Your 
name?"  asked  the  captain.  There  was  no  an 
swer.  The  detective  spoke :  "  She  is  Marie 
Franchise  Ducas,"  he  said.  "  Here  is  her  pho 
tograph."  He  laid  it  on  the  desk. 

"Nativity?" 

"  Paris,"  answered  the  detective,  as  the  woman 
234 


WHITEWASH 

maintained  her  stubborn  silence,  now  and  again 
darting  venomous  glances  at  Philippa  through  her 
heavy  veil. 

"  Occupation  ?  " 

"  She  is  a  pal  of  Valdeck's,  alias  Kelsoff,  alias 
O'Farrell." 

"  Lift  that  veil,"  commanded  the  officer. 

The  blue  tissue  was  raised,  revealing  a  sharp, 
not  unhandsome  face,  on  which  the  traces  of  a 
delicate  make-up  were  apparent,  contrasting  with 
her  present  pallor. 

Victoria  started,  looked,  and  looked  again. 
"  Why,"  she  cried,  "  I  know  her !  That  is  the 
maid,  Madame  Chateau-Lamion's  maid." 

The  woman  turned  on  her  an  instant's  search 
ing  glance;  then,  in  spite  of  herself,  recognition 
dawned  in  her  face.  "  Connais  pas,"  she  said, 
shortly,  with  a  shrug  of  her  shoulders. 

"  You  could  swear  to  this?  "  the  captain  asked, 
slowly,  of  Victoria,  who  answered  without  hesi 
tation  : 

"  Yes,  I  will  swear  to  it.  I  recall  her  per 
fectly." 

"  That's  the  consul's  racket,"  Mulligan  sug- 

235 


WHITEWASH 

gested.  "  We're  in  for  this  New  Orleans  busi 
ness.  Glory  be  to  the  saints,  but  she's  a  thorough 
one!  "  And  he  looked  admiringly  at  the  French 
woman. 

Meanwhile,  communications  were  pouring  in  by 
telephone.  The  consul  was  out,  but  would  be 
notified  as  soon  as  possible;  Mr.  Pendle  would 
come  at  once ;  Mrs.  Ford  was  absent. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  Victoria,  "  if  you  have  no 
further  need  of  me,  I  will  go." 

"  Your  name  first,  please,  in  full,  and  your 
residence.  For  sure  you'll  be  wanted  as  a  witness, 
and  to  identify  the  lady's  maid  again.  Then  ye 
can  go,  and  many  thanks  for  your  trouble." 

Victoria  gave  her  name  and  address  without 
casting  a  glance  toward  Philippa,  too  outraged 
to  show  any  sympathy.  The  sergeant  accom 
panied  her  to  the  door,  but  as  it  closed  she  heard 
the  order,  "  Take  'em  to  the  matron." 


236 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

JL  HE  morning  of  the  same  day  that  witnessed 
the  incarceration  of  Philippa,  Morton  rose  after 
a  sleepless  and  tormented  night  and  made  his 
resolve :  this  matter  had  to  be  cleared  up.  When 
his  fiancee  had  been  removed  to  her  room  and 
the  flurried  maid  had  brought  him  the  message 
that  "  mademoiselle  was  recovering,  but  begged 
to  be  excused,"  he  had  betaken  himself  to  his 
rooms  in  a  high  state  of  excitement.  Above  all 
else,  he  was  enraged  at  Mrs.  Durham,  the  woman 
who  had  dared  to  fling  such  cowardly  accusations 
at  the  most  saintly  girl  on  earth.  As  he  paced 
the  floor  he  formed  his  determinations.  Philippa 
must  not  be  drawn  into  this  wretched  business. 
He  would  conduct  it  for  her;  it  was  his  place 
and  privilege,  and  he  would  see  who  should  write 
retractions  or  apologies,  Philippa  or  Mrs.  Dur 
ham.  In  fancy  he  hounded  the  malicious  author- 

237 


WHITEWASH 

ess  to  her  lair,  delivered  an  oration  on  feminine 
weakness,  folly,  and  venom,  and  departed  only  to 
place  in  the  hands  of  his  wronged  angel  the  docu 
ment  wrung  from  her  accuser. 

But  Victoria  —  alas,  Victoria !  His  old  friend 
ship  and  loyalty  pleaded  for  her.  How  could  he 
have  been  so  mistaken?  To  do  him  justice,  had 
he  not  been  love-mad  he  never  would  have  owned 
a  doubt  of  her.  But  so  is  man  constituted  that 
one  touch  of  passion  weakens  his  hold  on  his 
perceptions,  even  his  certain  knowledge.  He 
would  have  fought  to  the  last  ditch  for  her 
against  all  odds,  save  yellow-haired  Philippa  with 
the  violet  eyes.  But  Fate  had  placed  before  him 
just  that  one  antagonist,  and  his  friendship  failed, 
—  not  without  pain,  not  without  hurt  to  his  whole 
nature.  But  he  could  not  doubt  his  love. 

Valdeck  and  his  equivocal  words  rose  before 
him  —  Valdeck,  the  criminal !  But  perhaps,  after 
all,  that  charge  was  groundless;  Philippa  had 
declared  that  Victoria  had  a  malicious  vengeance 
to  satisfy  in  her  statement  of  the  case. 

At  last,  however,  Morton's  instincts  refused 
to  be  longer  suppressed.  Whatever  Valdeck's  re- 
238 


WHITEWASH 

lations  to  Victoria  might  be,  Morton  was  forced 
to  confess  that  he  believed  her  story;  the  man 
was  undoubtedly  the  social  vampire  she  pictured. 
Had  he  not  felt  it  from  the  first,  and  begged  his 
darling  to  shun  the  contaminating  companion 
ship?  It  was  only  Philippa's  innocence  and  lack 
of  knowledge  of  things  worldly  that  had  led  her 
to  tolerate  the  impostor !  Then  why  believe  the  vil 
lain's  testimony  against  Victoria  ?  Morton's  saner 
self  demanded.  Perhaps  after  all  the  blame  lay 
with  the  Hungarian  alone.  Philippa  had  undoubt 
edly  lent  too  ready  an  ear  to  the  man's  accu 
sations,  brought  solely  to  throw  discredit  on  Vic 
toria's  hitherto  unimpeached  word,  —  women 
were  notoriously  uncharitable  towards  each  other. 
His  intuition  told  him  he  was  near  the  truth 
now.  He  might  even  clear  Victoria's  skirts  from 
blame,  with  no  graver  charge  against  Philippa 
than  a  too-great  willingness  to  listen  and  believe 
evil  of  her  neighbors.  Again  and  again  he  went 
over  the  ground,  gaining  greater  faith  in  his 
surmises.  He  forgot  his  dinner,  smoked  himself 
into  a  thoroughly  nervous  condition,  and  passed 
a  night  of  wakefulness  and  speculation. 

239 


WHITEWASH 

With  the  morning  came  action.  First  he  must 
see  Mrs.  Durham,  and  secure  a  written  retraction 
of  her  accusation  against  Philippa ;  then  he  would 
sift  the  matter  down  to  the  last  grain  of  fact, 
exonerate  Victoria,  and  bring  Valdeck  to  his 
much-needed  punishment. 

As  early  as  he  decently  could,  Morton  tele 
phoned  to  Mrs.  Durham,  and  was  promptly 
answered. 

His  anger  flamed  up  once  more  as  he  sat  in 
the  stuffy  booth  and  heard  over  the  connecting 
wire  the  well-modulated  tones  of  her  voice. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Conway,"  he  answered  her  first 
question.  "  Can  you  make  it  convenient  to  see 
me  this  morning?"  His  tone  was  cold,  and 
boded  no  mercy. 

To  his  surprise  the  answer  came  fearlessly,  and 
it  was  even  more  belligerent  and  icy  than  his  own. 
"  Certainly ;  I  was  expecting  you.  If  you  will 
come  for  me  at  once,  you  will  find  me  at  break 
fast  in  the  restaurant.  We  can  go  into  the  matter 
at  once." 

Her  readiness  staggered  him ;  he  had  expected 


240 


WHITEWASH 

equivocation  and  delay;  this  businesslike  alert 
ness  was  unsettling. 

"  In  half  an  hour,  then  ?  "  he  inquired,  with 
a  new  note  of  anxiety  in  his  voice. 

"  The  sooner  the  better,"  came  the  unwavering 
reply.  And  he  hung  up  the  receiver  with  a 
sensation  of  dread. 

How  could  she  be  so  sure  of  herself?  How 
dared  she  face  him  with  her  trumped-up  story? 
Surely  there  must  be  some  appearance,  some  foun 
dation  —  perfectly  innocent  —  but  making  misin 
terpretation  possible. 

No!  He  recalled  vividly  Philippa's  upturned, 
beseeching  eyes,  and  her  tearful,  childish  accent 
as  she  had  turned  to  him.  "  Morton,  if  you 
love  me,  don't  give  them  the  satisfaction  of  listen 
ing.  You  know  it  isn't  true !  " 

Of  course  he  knew  it  wasn't  true,  poor,  be 
wildered  little  girl !  Feeling  again  all  his  eager 
animosity,  he  went  out  and  called  a  passing  han 
som. 

As  he  drove  up  Fifth  Avenue,  he  hardened 
his  heart  and  steeled  his  nerves.  This  clashing 
of  feminine  weapons  and  armor  was  new  and 

241 


WHITEWASH 

harassing.  How  was  one  to  tell  a  lady,  young, 
pretty,  and  bewitchingly  gowned,  just  what  a 
mean,  wretched  example  of  humanity  she  really 
was!  Morton  would  vastly  have  preferred  a 
dozen  tigers  or  as  many  famished  duns.  But  he 
buckled  on  his  mail  of  insensibility  and  justice, 
and  relentlessly  proceeded. 

As  they  drew  up  before  the  vast,  yellow  side 
of  the  studio  building,  he  collected  himself  and 
assumed  a  formally  polite  manner,  calculated  to 
strike  terror  into  any  less  businesslike  and  well- 
administered  citadel  than  Mrs.  Durham's  heart. 

As  he  entered  the  restaurant,  the  lady  rose  to 
meet  him,  brisk,  frank,  and  energetic. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Conway.  Of  course 
you've  been  vastly  annoyed.  I  quite  understand. 
And  the  sooner  it's  over,  the  better.  Isn't  that 
so?" 

He  noted  with  annoyance  that  she  seemed  even 
fresher,  younger,  more  self-possessed,  and  more 
beautifully  tailored  than  ever. 

"  You  understand  the  nature  of  my  visit, 
then?  "  he  inquired,  coldly. 

"  Oh,  dear,  yes.  You  want  me  to  explain  what 
242 


WHITEWASH 

I  meant.  Dare  I  produce  my  informant  ?  —  and 
all  the  rest  of  it.  My  dear  man,  I  should  not 
have  made  that  assertion  had  I  not  been  perfectly 
prepared  to  do  so.  You  have  a  cab?  Good!  It 
will  save  time,  and  I  must  be  back  by  twelve. 
My  typewriter,  you  know."  She  smiled  sweetly, 
and  preceded  him  into  the  hall. 

He  assisted  her  into  the  hansom  and  took  his 
seat.  "  Where  to?  "  he  asked,  his  curiosity  pierc 
ing  his  indifferent  manner. 

"  To  your  uncle  Morris  Courncey's  office." 

Morton  gave  the  address  in  bewilderment. 

"  I'll  tell  you  a  few  things  about  this,  if  you 
like,"  said  Mrs.  Durham,  leaning  back  quite  at 
her  ease,  and  not  in  the  least  flustered.  "  Your 
good  old  relative  was  a  great  friend  of  Victoria's 
parents,  you  see,  and  some  of  this  nasty  gossip 
concerning  the  daughter  reached  his  ears.  Of 
course,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  discover  who 
had  originated  the  said  slander.  He  came  to  me 
—  we  were  old  pals,  too,  as  it  happened,  and  he 
likewise  knew  me  to  be  a  great  admirer  and  an 
unswerving  friend  of  Victoria's."  There  was  the 


243 


WHITEWASH 

least  suspicion  of  emphasis  marking  the  "  un 
swerving,"  and  Morton  winced. 

"  He  asked  me  to  whom  Victoria  was  indebted 
for  these  fascinating  little  innuendoes  and  open 
remarks,  and  I  told  him  just  what  every  one  else 
has,  namely,  that  Victoria's  dear  friend,  Miss 
Ford,  was  at  the  bottom  of  it  all.  *  What!  '  ex 
claimed  old  Morris,  '  Philippa  Ford  ?  Why,  she 
wouldn't  dare!  I  saw  her  myself  go  up-stairs 
with  that  Valdeck  in  Gagano's  restaurant,  where 
no  decent  woman  ever  goes !  She  couldn't  afford 
to  speak  ill  of  any  one ! '  '  Well,'  I  answered,  '  she 
has.'  '  Then,'  said  your  uncle  Morris,  '  I'll  be 
hanged  if  I  don't  prove  she  isn't  to  be  believed ! ' 

Morton  swung  round  in  his  seat  as  if  he  had 
been  hit,  and  faced  his  companion,  white  to  the 
lips. 

"  Kindly  remember  I  am  engaged  to  Miss 
Ford,"  he  said,  slowly,  dizzied  with  indignation. 

Mrs.  Durham  sighed.  "  I'm  trying  to  prepare 
you  for  what  you  are  bound  to  get  from  Courncey, 
who  has,  I  have  learned,  a  very  just  perception 
of  things,  and  a  wonderfully  fine  vocabulary  with 
which  to  clothe  it.  To  continue,  I  begged  him  to 
244 


WHITEWASH 

do  nothing  till  I  saw  him  again.  I  wanted  to 
think  things  over  and  make  the  most  of  the  in 
formation  when  the  time  came.  That  was  yes 
terday  morning,  and  the  time  came  in  the  after 
noon." 

"  Mr.  Courncey  is  mistaken ;  a  fancied  resem 
blance,"  he  answered,  doggedly. 

"  Not  at  all ;  but  I  will  let  him  speak  for  him 
self.  In  the  meantime,  I  am  honestly  sorry  for 
you,  though  I've  no  patience  with  any  one  claim 
ing  even  ordinary  common  sense  who  pins  his 
faith  on  a  woman  of  Miss  Ford's  stamp  when  he 
has  the  friendship  of  such  a  personality  as  Vic 
toria.  You  deserve  —  well,  I  don't  know  that 
my  imagination  can  picture  anything  quite  bad 
enough.  She's  worth  ten  dozen  such  as  you! 
And  all  the  golden-haired  Philippas  that  ever 
were  born  wouldn't  make  a  showing  that  Vic 
couldn't  overturn  with  her  little  finger.  Ouf !  I'm 
getting  angry.  Let's  be  quiet." 

"  I  think  it  would  be  in  better  taste,"  Morton 
murmured,  under  his  breath. 

Mrs.  Durham  leaned  back,  watching  the  endless 
procession  of  city  blocks  and  the  ceaseless,  hurry- 

245 


WHITEWASH 

ing  procession  that  crowded  the  sidewalk  and 
congested  the  thoroughfares. 

They  reached  the  region  of  shops,  and  drove 
down  on  Broadway,  where  the  buildings  grew 
taller,  and  the  gilt  wholesale  signs  more  aggres 
sive.  Noise  and  rumble  all  about  them,  yet  the 
two  sat  enveloped  in  silence,  threading  their  way 
amid  the  banging,  pounding  cable-cars,  skimming 
by  other  hurrying  hansoms,  skilfully  avoiding 
the  heavy,  jarring  wheels  of  laden  trucks. 

They  at  last  drew  up  before  the  towering  front 
of  a  huge  office  hive,  from  which,  busy  as  bees, 
in  and  out,  rushed  anxious  business  men.  Ele 
vators  sped  up  and  down  with  lightning  swift 
ness;  everywhere  was  slippery  marble  and 
wrought  metal,  things  designed  for  cleanliness, 
durability,  and  hard  usage,  yet  ornate.  A  strange 
outgrowth  of  luxury  and  utility  pushed  to  their 
extreme. 

As  if  in  a  dream,  they  were  caught  in  the  rush, 
and  snapped  into  one  of  the  elevators.  Instantly 
they  shot  upward,  stopping  with  disturbing  jerks 
at  various  landings.  At  the  ninth  floor  they 


246 


WHITEWASH 

stepped  out,  and  walked  down  the  marble  corri 
dor. 

Before  the  office  sign  of  Courncey  &  Hall  they 
paused.  Mechanically  Morton  opened  the  door, 
and  his  commanding  companion  swept  by  him. 
With  a  regal  nod  to  the  clerk  who  advanced  to 
meet  them,  she  handed  her  card  with  a  request  for 
instant  admittance  to  the  senior  partner's  private 
office.  The  sound  of  her  voice  was  apparently 
an  "  Open  Sesame,"  for  the  ground-glass  door 
at  the  upper  end  of  the  room  was  opened  abruptly 
by  a  red-faced  little  man,  who  rushed  down  on  her 
after  the  manner  of  an  affectionate  bulldog,  whose 
exuberant  greeting  might  well  be  mistaken  by 
the  uninitiated  for  a  threatening  advance. 

"So  it's  you,  is  it?  Come  in,  come  in,  come 
in !  " 

He  fired  the  words  with  inconceivable  rapidity, 
as  he  wrung  first  Mrs.  Durham's  hand,  and  then 
his  nephew's  somewhat  reluctant  palm. 

They  filed  into  the  sanctum,  and  the  little  mil 
lionaire  banged  the  door  smartly. 

"  Sit  down,  sit  down,  sit  down !  "  he  volleyed. 
"  Don't  mind  me  if  I  tramp  about  —  nervous, 

247 


W       H       I       T       E      \V      ASH 

you  know,  nervous!  I  suppose  you  brought 
Morton  down  to  hear  what  I  have  to  say  ?  Glad 
of  it,  glad  of  it."  He  paused,  fixed  his  piercing 
black  eyes  on  Morton. 

Mrs.  Durham  had  seated  herself  calmly.  But 
Morton  remained  erect,  towering  above  his  rapid- 
r.ri-C  •.::-.;>  ':;.  .-  :'•.:'.'.  j-.e,-  :  :.::  ':  :-.  '.::.': 

"  You're  not  engaged  to  her.  are  you  ?  "  Courn- 
cey  demanded,  suddenly  suspicious.  "  I  heard 
rumors,  you  know  —  rumors.  But  I  denied  them, 
of  coarse.  Still,  before  we  go  any  further :  Are 
you  here  as  Victoria's  friend  to  run  down  that 
cowardly  lie,  or  are  you  trying  to  clear  that  snivel 
ling  little  cat,  Philippa  Ford  ?  " 

"  Uncle  Morris."  he  answered,  simply.  "  I  am 
engaged  to  Miss  Ford,  but "  —  and  the  faintest 
hesitation  trembled  in  his  words  —  "I  want  to 
know  die  truth.  Mrs.  Durham  has  accused  the 
young  lady  of  dining  in  a  notorious  restaurant 
with  a  —  well,  in  questionable  company,  while  she 
was  professing  her  love  for  me,  and  had  been  en 
gaged  only  a  few  days.  And  Miss  Ford  positively 
denies  this." 

"  But  she  did  —  she  did !  '*  cried  the  little  man. 


WHITEWASH 

Morton  raised  his  hand  deprecatingly.  "  That 
has  to  he  proved.  As  for  these  stories,  I  am 
only  too  anxious  to  clear  Victoria  —  you  know 
how  fond  I  am,  and  always  have  been,  of  her. 
I  am  convinced  that  this  man  Valdeck  has  put 
these  lies  in  circulation  to  shield  himself.  Per 
haps  Miss  Ford  may  have  repeated  them,  for 
which  I  should  be  heartily  sorry ;  but,  if  so,  it  was 
in  the  belief  that  she  was  speaking  the  truth." 

Mr.  Courncey  fairly  danced  in  his  desire  to 
break  this  torrent  of  speech  and  get  in  his  own 
crowding  words.  "  Fiddlesticks !  Bosh !  "  he 
roared,  finally.  "  Miserable  little  minx,  glad 
enough  she  was  to  blacken  a  girl  like  Victoria 
Claudel !  I  have  learned  —  and  it  hasn't  been 
from  Mrs.  Durham,  either  — "  He  turned  as 
he  spoke,  indicating  with  a  quick  gesture  the  chair 
near  the  door.  It  was  empty. 

The  two  men  looked  startled  for  a  moment, 
then  relieved.  With  rare  tact  the  lady  had  re 
moved  her  restraining  presence. 

Courncey  bubbled  with  appreciation.  "  And 
now,  thank  God !  I  can  swear  all  I  please.  As  I 
said,  I  have  heard  from  many  sources  that  the 

249 


WHITEWASH 

Ford  girl  has  been  doing  her  level  best  to  ruin 
Victoria's  reputation!  Now  answer  me:  didn't 
she  shake  even  your  confidence?  " 

Morton  flushed  to  the  roots  of  his  hair,  and  his 
uncle,  requiring  no  further  answer,  chuckled 
angrily. 

"  Of  course  she  did,  confound  her !  And  let 
me  tell  you  I  saw  her  —  saw  her  myself,  going 
into  Gagano's.  I  was  sitting  in  the  restaurant 
facing  the  door  that  opens  into  the  hall  leading 
to  the  private  rooms  up-stairs.  They  came  in 
about  half-past  seven.  I  can  describe  every  rag 
she  wore:  a  black  velvet  dress  and  a  sable  cape, 
and  a  black  hat  with  feathers  on  it.  She  glanced 
into  the  room.  I  could  see  the  annoyance  on  her 
face  when  she  discovered  that  the  door  was  open, 
but  somehow  she  didn't  recognize  me.  With  her 
was  that  man  Valdeck,  and  I'll  bet  my  last  share 
in  the  '  Consolidated  '  he's  a  bad  egg,  in  spite  of 
the  fuss  these  women  make  over  him.  Who  in 
thunder  is  he?  And  where  did  he  come  from? 
Confound  him !  " 

"  I  must  believe  you  mistaken,"  Morton  ob- 


250 


WHITEWASH 

jected,  but  the  old  resolution  was  gone  from  his 
manner. 

"  Mistaken,  mistaken !  Damme,  sir,  I'm  not 
mistaken !  Unless  she  takes  back  every  word  she 
has  said  about  the  daughter  of  my  old  friend  — 
a  girl  who  hasn't  a  father  of  her  own  to  help  her 
—  if  she  doesn't,  I  say,  I'll  make  what  I  saw 
public !  Fanshaw  was  with  me,  and  saw  her,  too, 
and  can  corroborate  it!  I  guess  the  three  of  us 
can  prove  what  we  say,  and  I'll  bet  Miss  Philippa 
won't  be  able  to  produce  an  alibi !  " 

'Three?"  was  all  Morton  could  say,  for  his 
tongue  thickened  and  his  eyes  were  dim. 

'The  waiter,  you  blockhead,  the  waiter!" 
roared  Courncey.  "  After  Mrs.  Durham  exploded 
her  bomb,  she  went  down  and  interviewed  him. 
Very  clever  woman,  that,  very  clever !  Ought  to 
have  been  a  man,  a  business  man.  Clear  head, 
clear  eye,  no  fluster,  no  brag.  Anyway,  she 
argued  that  one  or  the  other  of  them  would  see 
the  danger  and  shut  the  waiter  up.  So  she  went 
first.  Good  move,  very!  But,  unfortunately,  the 
fellow  wouldn't  say  much." 

The  young  man  drew  himself  up  to  his  full 

251 


E      W      A      S      H 


height,  scorn  and  agony  at  work  on  his  handsome 
face. 

"  Pretty  game,  isn't  it,  trying  to  bribe  ser 
vants?  And,  pray,  what  should  a  waiter  of  Ga- 
gano's  know  of  Miss  Ford?  I  should  count  his 
identification  mere  perjury!" 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  not  a  bit  of  it !  As  it  happens, 
this  one  has  worked  at  Sherry's  and  Delmonico's. 
Man's  been  sick  —  just  out  of  hospital.  Took 
Gagano's  job  pro  tern.  But  it  seems  it's  pro 
fessional  etiquette  with  them  to  keep  mum  —  doc 
tors,  priests,  and  waiters,  same  lodge." 

Morton  sat  down  miserably.  His  world  was 
spinning  about  him.  If  only  Philippa  had  not 
looked  him  in  the  face  with  those  angelic  eyes, 
and  denied.  If  only  she  had  not  held  to  her  accu 
sation  of  Victoria,  and  made  herself  out  such 
a  supremely  superior  being.  If  only  she  had  left 
one  loophole  for  her  own  shortcomings.  The 
escapade  he  would  have  forgiven  —  what  girl 
does  not  need  forgiveness  for  some  daredevil,  fool 
ish  action  sometime  in  her  life?  Who  was  he 
to  blame  her? 

His  eyes  burned  and  his  mouth  twitched  as  his 
252 


WHITEWASH 

perfect  trust  of  Philippa  crumbled  and  fell  from 
him. 

He  was  roused  by  the  sound  of  Mrs.  Durham's 
voice,  and  looking  up,  noticed  her  slim,  flat  shoul 
ders  and  the  graceful  sweep  of  her  skirts.  She 
had  entered  and  was  talking  to  Courncey  with  her 
back  toward  him.  He  was  glad  of  that ;  he  could 
not  bear  that  she  should  see  his  face. 

Rising  quickly,  he  walked  to  the  window  and 
stood  looking  down  on  the  crowded  streets  below, 
over  which,  antlike,  men  and  women  swarmed 
and  crawled.  He  almost  wished  himself  one  of 
those  silent,  undisturbed  sleepers  down  in  Trinity 
churchyard,  where  the  headstones  protruded, 
black  with  damp,  from  the  dark  brown  mold 
spotted  over  with  rotten,  porous  snow.  He 
pulled  himself  together,  and  turned  again  to  the 
room.  Mrs.  Durham's  face  was  toward  him  now, 
and  he  heard  her  voice,  modulated  to  not  ungentle 
tones.  He  did  not  catch  her  words.  He  was 
conscious  only  of  one  decision.  For  sake  of 
what  had  been,  he  would  shield  Philippa !  for  the 
sake  of  his  own  illusion  —  the  illusion,  not  the 
reality ! 

253 


WHITEWASH 

"  You  need  give  no  further  proof,  if  you  have 
any,"  he  said.  "  I  know  Uncle  Morris  and  Fan- 
jhaw  too  well." 

"  You  called  me  to  account,"  Mrs.  Durham 
went  on.  "  I  have  made  good  my  statements. 
Now  let  me  appeal  to  you.  You  have  lost  Philippa, 
do  you  want  to  lose  Victoria,  too?  Help  us  to 
clear  up  this  horrid  slander!  I  think  if  we  all 
use  our  personal  influence,  we  can  turn  the  cogs 
of  this  slow,  legal  machinery  with  much  greater 
speed.  We  can  have  a  closer  watch  put  upon 
Valdeck,  and  employ  our  own  detective,  if  neces 
sary.  Now,  we've  worked  it  out  this  way  —  your 
uncle  and  I.  We  think  that  Valdeck  has  some 
thing  vital  on  foot  now,  and  so  could  not  change 
his  plans.  He  tried  to  countermine  Victoria  when 
he  saw  that  she  recognized  him,  solely  to  gain 
time.  It  was  playing  a  dangerous  game,  so  the 
time  needed  must  have  been  only  comparatively 
short,  and  the  stake  large.  Now  it's  three  weeks 
since  information  was  laid  against  him.  Things 
must  be  coming  to  a  head,  and  he  must  not  give 
us  the  slip.  You  understand?  " 

"  Well  put,  very  well  put !  "  Mr.  Courncey  ex- 
254 


WHITEWASH 

claimed,  quickly.  "  Good  statement  of  the  case. 
Now,  Morton,  I  can  see  that  since  Miss  Ford's 
name  has  been  connected  with  yours,  you  want 
to  protect  her,  though  she  don't  deserve  it  — 
wretched  little  yellow  cat !  " 

"  Yes,"  Morton  nodded,  gravely.  "  I  would 
like  to  save  her,  if  it's  possible." 

"If  she  takes  it  all  back  about  Victoria  —  " 

"  Publicly,"  cut  in  Mrs.  Durham. 

"Of  course,  of  course!"  bellowed  Courncey. 
"  Whoever  thought  of  anything  else?  " 

"  I  fancy  she  will  do  that,  but  we  mustn't 
make  it  too  difficult  —  she's  proud  —  " 

"  Vain !  "  sniffed  Mrs.  Durham. 

Morton  took  no  notice.  "  Let  us  keep  all  this 
quite  to  ourselves ;  don't  let  a  word  of  it  get  out 
to  the  newspapers,  or  in  common  talk.  Miss 
Ford  shall  own  herself  mistaken,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  she  will  give  Valdeck  as  the  authority  for 
her  former  assertions.  Then  we  can  push  him  to 
the  wall  all  the  easier,  and  we  need  have  no 
mercy ! " 

There  was  a  grimness  in  the  click  of  his  jaw 
as  he  shut  his  teeth  that  boded  ill  for  the  suave 

255 


WHITEWASH 

foreigner  if  ever  he  should  come  within  reach 
of  Morton's  long,  powerful  arm. 

"We  may  count  on  you,  then?"  said  Mrs. 
Durham.  "  I  think,  since  of  course  you  must  see 
Miss  Ford,  that  you  might  explain  matters  better 
than  I  can." 

"  I  would  rather  you  saw  her  yourself,"  he 
said,  dully,  "  or,  better  still,  have  a  talk  with  her 
aunt." 

"  Very  well,"  she  assented.  "  Morris,  I  think 
we  will  leave  you.  Sorry  to  have  made  this  little 
scene  in  your  office,  but  I  know  you  are  anxious 
for  your  old  friend  Claudel's  sake,  and  his  daugh 
ter's,  too." 

"  Oh,  it'll  turn  out  all  right,  all  right !  "  jerked 
Courncey.  "  You've  been  a  trump,  a  trump, 
madam !  And,  damme,  if  I  ever  get  into  trouble, 
I'll  come  to  you."  The  little  man  wrung  her  hand 
once  more,  then  lifted  his  snapping,  black  eyes, 
from  which  all  the  hardness  had  vanished,  to  the 
troubled  face  of  his  nephew. 

"  You're  hit  hard,"  he  said,  gravely,  "  and  I'm 
sorry;  but,  my  boy,  better  find  these  things  out 
before  marriage  than  afterward.  That  girl's  a 
256 


WHITEWASH 

bad  lot,  for  all  her  yellow  hair  and  baby  eyes. 
She's  rotten  to  the  core  —  it's  inherited,  it's  nat 
ural,  and  it's  cultivated.  I  know  her !  Have  the 
courage  to  break  your  engagement  —  don't  be  a 
fool,  and  let  her  make  you  believe  you're  tied. 
You've  got  to  do  the  square  thing  —  not  the  soft 
thing,  mind  you,  but  the  square  thing  —  by  your 
self,  first,  and  before  all.  Good-bye,  good-bye!  " 

Once  more  Morton  found  himself  in  the  ele 
vator,  being  dropped  down-stairs  at  a  sickening 
pace,  and  presently  he  was  out  in  the  street  again. 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  Mrs.  Durham,"  he  heard 
himself  saying,  "  I'll  put  you  into  a  cab.  I  need 
exercise  and  I  want  to  think,  so  I'd  better  walk 
up." 

"  Of  course,"  she  said,  cheerily.  "  Don't  mind 
me  in  the  least.  Just  put  me  aboard  a  hansom." 
She  looked  up  at  him  with  such  a  light  of  sweet 
ness  in  her  face  that  in  spite  of  his  former  antag 
onism  his  heart  warmed  toward  her. 

She  held  out  her  hand.  "  You'll  believe  me, 
won't  you  ?  It's  only  out  of  my  love  for  Victoria 
that  I'm  pushing  this  thing  so  far.  I  don't  usually 
make  it  my  business  to  hound  any  woman  down. 

257 


WHITEWASH 

I've  got  a  theory  that,  after  all,  a  woman  pays 
such  a  fearful  price  for  everything  in  life  that 
we  must  consider  she's  always  on  the  short  side 
of  the  balance-sheet,  and  so  be  extra  generous 
and  attend  to  our  own  business.  And  I'm  really 
not  such  a  frightfully  meddlesome  old  body." 

He  almost  smiled  at  her  earnestness,  as  he 
gave  her  his  hand  and  she  lightly  settled  herself 
in  a  cab. 

"  Good-bye,"  she  called. 

He  raised  his  hat  as  the  hansom  turned  and 
began  its  zigzag  journey  northward.  Then, 
plunging  into  the  crowd,  he  walked  on  mechan 
ically. 

Now  it  chanced  that  Victoria,  hot  and  angry 
from  the  police-station  episode,  and  Morton,  sore 
and  miserable  from  his  interview,  both  started 
to  walk  off  their  troubles.  Together  they  had 
contracted  the  habit.  From  childhood  up  they 
were  wont  to  wear  out  their  griefs  and  rages  in 
company,  walking  at  a  furious  gait,  sometimes 
for  hours  in  unbroken  silence,  till  the  burdened 
one  would  be  moved  to  confidences,  and  then,  the 


258 


WHITEWASH 

trouble  past,  they  would  saunter  comfortably 
home. 

In  this  case  Victoria  had  the  start  and  was 
further  up-town,  but  Morton's  huge  stride  car 
ried  him  forward  at  greater  speed  than  Victoria's 
steady  swing. 

Now,  if  A  starts  from  C,  walking  at  the  rate 
of  a  hundred  and  twenty  miles  an  hour,  and  B 
starts  from  D,  walking  at  the  rate  of  a  hundred 
and  eighty  miles  an  hour,  how  long  will  it  take 
B  to  overtake  A? 

The  result  occurred  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Thirty-Second  Street  and  Eighth  Avenue.  By  a 
common  impulse  they  had  made  for  that  region. 
There  they  had  formerly  indulged  their  mutual 
peripatetic  propensities.  And  the  neighborhood 
being  unfrequented,  a  higher  steam-pressure  and 
a  more  regular  course  could  be  assured. 

It  suddenly  dawned  on  Morton  that  the  back 
of  the  girl  walking  a  block  or  so  directly  in  front 
of  him  was  strangely  familiar :  that  strong  stride, 
that  broad-shouldered,  erect  carriage,  and  — 
completing  and  convincing  detail  —  the  heavy 
hair  that  was  struggling  to  let  itself  down.  That 

259 


WHITEWASH 

hair  bristled  with  helpless  pins,  and  the  constant 
gesture  by  which  she  absent-mindedly  strove  to 
push  them  in  brought  up  a  thousand  affectionate 
memories. 

Involuntarily  he  quickened  his  pace,  closing  the 
distance  between  them  till  only  a  foot  or  so  inter 
vened. 

"Tory,"  he  called,  "hold  on;    wait  for  me." 

The  girl  turned  abruptly,  her  face  all  stretched 
to  speak,  but  she  looked  in  his  face  for  an  instant, 
and  moved  on  in  silence,  joining  her  step  with 
his. 

The  years  slrpped  by  as  if  by  a  miracle;  they 
were  boy  and  girl  again,  walking  off  a  rage  in 
the  old  way. 

The  ugly  brick  avenue,  with  its  withered  shops 
and  shabby  boarding-houses,  took  on  a  beautiful, 
friendly  familiarity;  every  iron  grating  had  its 
little  history,  every  show-window  its  episode. 
Even  the  changes  consequent  upon  the  lapse  of 
time  served  to  recall  the  houses  that  had  van 
ished. 

Gradually  the  old  spirit  took  hold  of  them ; 
their  recent  troubles  and  estrangement  fell  away. 
260 


"THE    GIRL    TURNED    ABRUPTLY." 


WHITEWASH 

Philippa  was  a  name  —  no  more :  Valdeck  a  night 
mare!  And  as  for  the  worthless  love  that  had 
occupied  his  heart,  Morton  awoke  with  a  start 
to  find  it  utterly  gone  —  the  rainbow  bubble  of  his 
senses  had  been  dispelled.  He  saw  clearly  now, 
saw  through  the  glamour  to  the  utter  sham  of  it, 
saw  the  narrow,  calculating  mind,  the  small,  mean 
soul,  and  the  overwhelming  vanity  that  swathed 
Philippa  from  top  to  toe  in  a  garment  of  hypoc 
risy —  saw,  and  did  not  care!  His  grief  had  dis 
appeared  with  the  renewal  of  his  mental  vision. 
Why  should  he  regret  where  there  was  nothing 
worthy  of  regret?  He  could  only  curse  himself 
for  a  fool,  and  wonder  that  he  had  ever  owned 
a  doubt,  or  that  his  loyal  friendship  should  have 
failed  the  girl  beside  him  —  his  "  little  twin  "  of 
the  old  days,  and  always. 

Victoria  was  busy  with  her  own  thoughts,  but 
happy  in  the  regained  companionship  of  her  chum. 
She  felt  instinctively  the  chrysalis  breaking  in 
his  mind,  and  the  beautiful  butterfly  of  their 
mutual  understanding  evolving  itself  more  splen 
did  than  the  rudimentary,  though  beloved,  little 
grub  of  their  childish  affection. 

261 


WHITEWASH 

Within  view  of  the  Park  entrance,  they  came 
to  a  little  restaurant  often  frequented  in  former 
years. 

"  Let's  go  in  and  eat  caviare,"  she  suggested, 
breaking  the  silence. 

"  Let's,"  he  answered.  "  Let's  go  in  and  eat 
caviare  and  drink  Wurzburger,  and  talk  it  all 
over,  just  as  we  used  to !  " 


262 


CHAPTER    IX. 

the  French  quarter,  west  of  Sixth  Avenue 
and  well  down  Twenty-sixth  Street,  stands  a  little 
hotel  and  restaurant  unknown  to  fame  as  La  belle 
Nivernaise.  It  is  dingy,  gray  with  age  and  smoke, 
and  the  aroma  of  many  savory  dinners  floats  per 
ceptibly  on  the  air.  One  huge  window  fronts 
the  street,  adorned  by  a  flowery  balcony  without, 
and  clean  white  curtains  within,  through  which 
may  be  divined,  rather  than  seen,  dozens  of  small 
tables,  each  bearing  its  white  cloth,  its  half-yard 
of  bread,  its  tapering  celery-glass  of  graccinni 
(in  deference  to  the  Italian  habitues),  and  won 
derfully  folded  napkins  foliating  from  portly  and 
unbreakable  goblets.  The  narrow  steps  are  steep 
and  few  that  lead  to  the  door  on  the  left  of 
the  window,  and  above  the  hospitable  entrance 
swings  a  weather-beaten  sign,  —  a  rain-washed 
damsel,  pointing  with  a  grimacing  smile  to  a  much 

263 


WHITEWASH 

dimmed  tricolor.  The  hallway  within  is  not 
spacious,  and  the  stair  leading  to  the  floor  above 
is  inclined  at  the  angle  of  Jacob's-ladder,  and 
covered  by  a  frayed  ingrain  carpet  of  uncertain 
color.  On  the  second  story,  a  hallway,  dark  as 
Erebus,  gives  access  to  the  rooms  of  the  locataires. 
There  are  four  such  rooms  on  the  side  and  one 
at  the  end,  offering  the  same  general  aspect  - 
dark  papers  of  the  fashion  of  thirty  years  ago, 
walnut  furniture,  iron  bedsteads,  each  boasting 
two  fat  eider-down  pillows,  covered  with  turkey 
red  and  further  decorated  with  squares  of 
Nottingham  lace.  The  black-framed  mirrors  that 
hang  above  each  wash-stand  present  a  varied 
assortment  of  discolorations.  To  contemplate 
one's  self  therein  is  by  no  means  a  tribute  to 
vanity ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  conducive  to  serious 
thoughts  upon  the  precariousness  of  human  ex 
istence,  so  green,  distorted,  and  scarred  is  the 
reflection  that  meets  the  eye.  The  gas-brackets, 
protruding  aggressively,  are  so  many  dark  and 
shapely  hands  of  bronze,  emerging  from  frilled 
bronze  cuffs,  and  uplifting  tiny  torches  of  the  same 
metal,  upon  which  bulge  engraved  globes  of  a 
264 


WHITEWASH 

"  hunted  deer  pattern."  The  accommodations 
of  La  belle  Nivernaise  are  not  palatial. 

In  the  second  room  to  the  right,  at  the  top 
of  the  landing,  a  new  locataire  had  just  moved 
in.  As  Gustave,  the  waiter,  told  Hortense,  "  la 
dame  au  douze  "  was  of  a  reticence  of  a  silence- 
ness  not  to  be  believed !  But  she  had  insisted  upon 
knowing  who  her  neighbors  were  —  the  "  mon 
sieur  du  quatorze "  and  "  les  petites  sceurs  du 
dix!" 

"  She  had  pulled  at  the  communicating  doors, 
acted  very  strangely,  and  given  him  a  piece  of 
fifty  cents  for  carrying  up  her  hand-bags  —  and 
they  of  a  lightness !  " 

"  Was  the  monsieur  du  quatorze  in  his  room  ?  " 
Hortense  inquired. 

But  Gustave  did  not  know  —  he  thought  not. 
A  bang  at  the  hall  door  brought  them  both  to 
the  curtain  at  the  end  of  the  passage.  Ah,  to 
be  sure,  the  gentleman  himself  —  a  nice  gentle 
man,  but  with  habits  extraordinary.  For  the 
little  he  used  his  room  he  might  as  well  have 
no  room  at  all.  For  days  at  a  time  he  never 
showed  up.  A  "  commis  traveller,"  of  course. 

265 


WHITEWASH 

But  he  was  not  gay  and  happy  as  are  the  voy- 
ageurs,  and  then,  besides,  he  had  no  sample- 
trunk. 

Gustave  chucked  Hortense  under  her  dimpled 
chin  with  a  superior  air.  "  And  dost  thou  not 
know,  grosse  bete,  that  he  is  agent  for  automo 
biles  ?  —  in  a  sample-trunk !  —  Viola !  that  was 
droll!" 

"  Tiens !  "  cried  Hortense,  "  there  is  the  pa- 
tronesse  who  rings !  "  and  she  flew  to  the  sum 
mons  of  Madame  Guisard,  formerly  la  belle 
Nivernmse,  now  grown  fat  beyond  belief,  red- 
faced  and  choleric. 

The  "  monsieur  du  quatorze  "  tramped  on  up 
stairs,  unlocked  his  door,  entered,  and  slipped  the 
bolt.  Then  he  threw  his  soft  hat  upon  the  bed, 
slipped  angrily  out  of  his  overcoat,  flung  him 
self  upon  the  frowzy  satin  rocker,  and  leaned 
forward,  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  his  chin  in 
his  hands.  His  face  was  white  and  pinched,  and 
his  eyes  discolored  and  miserable,  for  the  "  gentle 
man  of  travel  with  the  habits  extraordinary " 
had  received  bad  news.  In  his  hand  he  clutched 


266 


WHITEWASH 

a  crumpled  paper,  which  he  presently  spread  out 
upon  his  knee,  and  read : 

"  Both  of  them  nabbed  —  jig's  up.  Have 
skipped.  Lay  low !  " 

This  communication  had  been  pressed  into  his 
hand  by  a  sharp-faced,  ragged  street  arab,  who 
had  met  him,  quite  by  accident,  as  he  came  out 
of  "  Brodie's."  Valdeck  smoothed  the  paper  ab 
sently,  and  continued  in  deep  meditation.  The 
bubble  had  burst.  It  was  his  first  real  setback, 
and  he  took  it  hard.  But  he  was  not  the  man 
to  lie  down  under  misfortune.  His  ready  brain 
had  comprehended  the  full  extent  of  the  catas 
trophe.  At  once  he  recognized  the  impossibility 
of  snatching  his  chestnuts  from  the  fire,  and 
turned  to  his  plans  for  the  future.  Thank  good 
ness,  only  half  the  New  Orleans  swag  was  in 
the  despatch-box ;  the  rest  was  already  safely  con 
veyed  to  London,  where  he  could  look  it  up  on 
his  arrival,  and  the  Amsterdam  firm  stood  ready 
to  relieve  him  of  his  precious  stones  at  a  fairly 
decent  figure.  The  question  was  now  how,  when, 
and  where  to  strike  for  the  other  side.  He  turned 
over  the  possibilities.  If  his  schemes  had  not  so 

267 


disastrously  failed  at  the  last  moment,  he  would 
have  quietly  embarked  for  the  English  capital  and 
lost  himself  at  once.  He  knew  himself  to  be 
watched,  thanks  to  the  unforeseen  raking  up  of 
the  Breton  episode;  but  he  had  outwitted  keener 
hunters  before,  and  had  little  or  no  fear  of  the 
police.  Captain  Brady  was  his  friend,  and  if  the 
wrorst  came  to  the  worst,  he  could  depend  on 
timely  warning.  Obviously,  this  time,  though, 
the  straightaway  run  would  be  useless.  The 
Auray  affair  would  be  pressed  half-heartedly,  but 
to  complicate  matters,  they  were  on  to  the  Orleans 
trouble,  and  rewards  were  out  for  that  —  rewards 
sufficient  to  make  the  chase  remunerative.  There 
remained,  then,  as  next  choice,  old  Bordenten  and 
the  Bonnie  Dundee  bound  for  Glasgow.  Borden 
ten,  who  believed  him  a  whiskey  smuggler,  and 
heartily  approved  of  the  trade  —  a  hint  dropped 
to  the  effect  that  the  authorities  "  wanted  "  him, 
would  be  taken  by  the  captain  as  a  suggestion  that 
a  stowaway  would  be  no  trouble.  Valdeck  saw 
himself  quietly  secreted,  with  a  bottle  of  "  white- 
horse  "  and  a  stock  of  back-number  magazines, 
while  the  old  sea-dog  defied  the  law  and  indig- 
268 


WHITEWASH 

nantly  defended  the  honor  of  his  native  land. 
Like  a  prudent  general,  he  had  saved  this  par 
ticular  avenue  of  escape  for  the  day  of  need, 
and  until  now  had  bestowed  favors  on  the  grisly 
old  salt  without  ever  asking  for  a  return. 

The  only  trouble  was  the  ten  days  that  must 
be  passed  before  the  Bonnie  Dundee  was  sched 
uled.  If  Bordenten  would  only  take  him  on  board 
now  he  reflected,  but  recalled  at  once  that  the 
gay  Lothario  was  in  Massachusetts  visiting  his 
American  family. 

Valdeck  got  up,  rammed  his  hands  deep  in 
his  pockets,  and  went  to  the  window.  He  looked 
out  upon  the  brick  ugliness  of  an  extension  to 
the  house  next  door,  and  a  tumbled  vista  of 
back  yards,  separated  by  high  white  fences,  upon 
which  prowled  and  cuddled  numberless  cats  of 
all  colors  and  sizes.  A  network  of  clothes-lines 
cobwebbed  the  grassless  gardens,  and  from  them 
depended  every  sort  and  condition  of  underwear, 
from  the  rainbow-hued,  belaced,  China  silk  crea 
tions  of  the  lady  opposite,  to  the  red  flannels 
and  numberless  pinafores  of  No.  347' s  second- 
floor  back.  The  hunted  man  took  in  the  com- 

269 


WHITEWASH 

mon-place  surroundings  at  a  glance,  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  and,  turning  his  back,  began  a  slow 
pacing  up  and  down  his  dingy  cell. 

Better  stay  where  he  was,  at  least  for  the 
present.  He  had  his  landlady  by  the  scruff,  so 
to  speak.  There  were  some  spots  in  the  career 
of  the  erstwhile  belle  Nivemaise,  —  but,  no 
matter,  —  she  was  devoted.  Until  recently  no 
suspicion  had  been  attached  to  him,  and  since 
the  horizon  had  so  visibly  darkened,  he  had  taken 
good  care  to  stick  by  his  charming  little  rooms 
in  East  Fortieth  Street,  and  not  to  jeopardize 
his  present  retreat.  Decidedly  this  abode  was 
as  good  as  any,  at  least  for  a  day  or  two,  when 
he  could  quietly  lose  himself  in  the  labyrinth  of 
the  Polish  Jew  quarter.  Thank  goodness,  there 
was  always  this  disguise  open  to  him.  For  his 
mother  had  been  a  Pole,  and  a  beauty  in  her 
day.  The  memory  of  Judith  Grosifa  was  still 
green  in  the  police  and  polite  annals  of  Vienna. 

Having  decided  upon  his  mode  of  procedure, 

he  flung  himself  upon  the  bed  and  turned  his 

mind  to  other  details  of  his  trouble.     What  of 

Eugenia,    the    faithful?      He    twisted    uneasily. 

270 


WHITEWASH 

Eugenia  must  have  brought  this  down  on  her 
own  head,  he  surmised.  But  how  on  earth  had 
they  connected  her  —  a  sudden  light  dawned  on 
him,  and  he  almost  sat  up.  Of  course  —  she 
was  wanted  for  the  Auray  affair.  Damn  the 
business!  The  police  had  stumbled  on  the  New 
Orleans  stuff  in  their  hunt  for  the  accessory  to 
the  burglary  in  the  hotel. 

A  wave  of  hate  inundated  him.  That  Claudel 
girl !  —  why  should  she  have  appeared  now,  at 
the  most  crucial  point  of  his  career,  to  turn  his 
triumph  to  defeat  —  to  break  the  wonderful 
thread  of  luck  that  had  led  him  from  fortune 
to  fortune,  till  he  had  wealth,  power,  and  honesty 
within  his  grasp?  The  superstitious  element  in 
his  nature  awoke  and  nudged  him.  There  was 
something  uncanny  in  all  this  —  there  was  a  se 
quence  —  Fate !  Was  it  vengeance  of  the  saints, 
for  whom  the  countess's  jewels  had  been  intended? 
What  else  could  have  made  him  so  foolish,  so 
blind? 

A  clear  vision  of  Victoria  rose  before  his  eyes 
—  strong,  vigorous,  fearless.  Into  his  brain  her 
level,  piercing  look  seemed  to  penetrate.  He  felt 

271 


WHITEWASH 

the  atmosphere  of  vitality,  power,  and  satirical 
humor,  that  made  up  her  personality  and  charm 
—  felt  it,  and  realized  with  "a  sudden  shock,  that 
there,  of  all  the  world,  was  the  woman  he  might 
have  loved  —  loved  mightily  and  forever ! 

This  sudden  turn  of  his  emotions  startled  his 
whole  being ;  undreamt  of,  in  his  fight  for  survival, 
her  splendid  truth  and  physical  energy  had  dom 
inated  his  imagination.  In  spite  of  the  trick  he 
had  played  her,  in  spite  of  the  mud  he  had  thrown 
upon  her,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  she  it  was  who 
had  set  the  machinery  in  motion  that  now  threat 
ened  to  crush  him  —  he  loved  her !  —  yes,  loved 
her!  —  and  a  savage,  evil  joy  possessed  him  that 
her  name  had  been  coupled  with  his  —  her  fair 
name  brought  close  in  contact  with  the  soil  and 
stain  of  his  own !  Victoria !  the  proud,  the  self- 
willed,  the  defiant !  —  at  least  the  thread  of  their 
lives  had  met  and  crossed,  and  woven  an  episode. 

"Victoria!" 

He  spoke  the  name  aloud,  rejoicing  in  its  sound, 
that  suggested  trumpets  and  pageant. 

Then  his  mood  relaxed  and  he  lay  back,  the 
vision  of  the  girl's  strong  face  still  before  him. 
272 


WHITEWASH 

Her  proud  look  was  scornful  and  aloof.  She 
seemed  to  thrust  him  back,  back  away  from  her. 
She  was  Vengeance  Victrix!  Justice  outraged! 
A  thrill  as  of  impending  danger  electrified  him. 

He  got  up,  and  opening  the  door,  called  for 
Gustave  in  no  pleasant  tones. 

A  prompt  "  Oui,  monsieur,  tout  de  suite,  mon 
sieur!  "  came  from  below,  and  the  waiter  sprang 
up  the  steps  and  stood,  all  attention. 

"  Tell  madame  to  send  me  up  a  bottle  of  whis 
key,"  he  ordered,  shortly,  and  stepped  back. 

Gustave  obeyed  with  alacrity,  and  presently  re 
turned  with  the  bottle  and  a  corkscrew.  "  A 
siphon?  —  no?  A  soda?  —  no?  —  bien!"  and 
he  skipped  lightly  from  the  lowering  presence. 

Valdeck  poured  out  a  full  three  fingers  and 
tossed  it  down.  He  was  not  a  drinking  man, 
and  he  gagged  at  the  sharp,  burning  taste.  But 
his  nerve  had  been  taxed  to  the  uttermost,  and 
the  stiff  dose  barely  restored  his  mental  equilib 
rium. 

The  early  twilight  had  already  settled  down. 
The  room  was  mysterious  with  dusk.  Outside, 
the  world  was  blue  and  strange,  with  squares 

273 


WHITEWASH 

of  yellow  gaslight  marking  the  illuminated  win 
dows.  On  the  fences,  sleep-sodden  cats  stretched 
and  yawned,  whisked  a  velvet  paw  over  a  drowsy 
face  and  started  out  upon  the  evening's  wander 
ings.  The  clothes-lines  sagged  no  longer  above 
their  wind-inflated  loads.  Now  and  again  a  jang 
ling  piano  sent  a  shower  of  ill-tuned  waltz-notes 
on  the  air,  and  somewhere  in  the  distance  a  melan 
choly  cornet  wailed  forth  the  familiar  melody  of 
the  "  Trompeter  von  Sakkingen,"  "  Behiit,  dich 
Gott,  es  war  zu  schon  gewesen,  behiit,  dich  Gott, 
es  hat  nicht  sollen  sein." 

He  shivered  and  turned  once  more  to  the 
whiskey-bottle. 

Twilight  settled  into  night,  while  smells  of 
dinner  cookery  pervaded  everything ;  sage,  onions, 
a  whiff  of  garlic  swamped  in  a  nameless  vague 
sauce  piquant  aroma.  From  the  restaurant  on  the 
first  floor,  noise  and  tumult  arose.  A  busy  clatter 
of  dishes,  knives  and  forks,  as  the  first  courses 
of  the  "  fifty-cent-dinner,  —  wine-included,"  were 
being  served.  Then,  animal  appetites  satisfied, 
a  babel  of  tongues  arose  —  louder  and  louder  as 
the  California  claret  began  to  take  effect.  Val- 
274 


WHITEWASH 

deck  could  see  it  all  as  plainly  as  if  he  were 
occupying  one  of  the  little  white-clothed  tables 
now  being  wine-spotted  by  the  hungry  horde,  — 
fat,  paunchy  men,  with  small,  round  features  and 
pig  eyes,  who  wielded  dexterous  knives,  gesticu 
lating,  enthusiastic,  with  clothes-brush  pompa 
dours  and  bristly  moustaches ;  elderly  and  over 
flowing  matrons,  with  black  lace  bonnets  and 
lavish  breastpins,  chaperoning  slim  slips  of  daugh 
ters  of  marriageable  age,  mildly  and  fearfully 
regarding  a  fiance  of  papa's  choosing  —  always 
a  young  man  with  a  crumpled  white  waistcoat 
and  a  black  satin  tie,  designed  to  imitate  a  "  cra 
vat,"  and  adorned  by  a  gilt  safety-pin.  Some 
times  he  was  blond,  sometimes  brunette,  but  the 
uniform  was  invariable.  There,  too,  the  inevitable 
tenth-rate  viveur,  with  pimpled  face,  gray  hair, 
and  a  lean  lecherousness,  accompanied  by  his 
tenth-rate  concomitant  —  a  girl  with  painted 
cheeks,  and  bandeau  tresses  surmounted  by  a 
flaring  velvet  hat  of  faded  plumage  —  the  usual 
habitues  of  the  French  quarter  restaurant  cafe. 
Later  there  would  be  petits  verres  and  dominoes 
until  eleven.  Valdeck  knew  it  all  to  the  sickening 

275 


WHITEWASH 

point.  He  could  not  help  contrasting  it  with  the 
surroundings  and  life  in  which  he  had  so  lately 
figured.  Brought  up  as  he  had  been,  in  the 
lavish,  careless  luxury  of  his  beautiful  but  no 
madic  mother,  he  had  from  earliest  childhood 
consorted  with  men  of  fashion  and  women  of 
that  nameless  world,  where  good  manners  are 
by  no  means  unusual,  and  where  luxury  is  a 
necessity.  Later,  as  he  grew  old  enough  to  be 
observing,  and  also  a  living  remark  upon  the 
age  of  the  lovely  Judith  Grosifa,  he  had  been 
sent  away  to  school  in  England,  till  the  woeful 
day  when  the  master  learned  of  his  antecedents 
and  turned  him  out.  Then  two  years  at  a  Lycee 
in  Paris,  till  at  fourteen  he  found  himself  an 
orphan,  with  but  little  to  his  name,  and  that 
name  uncertain.  He  had  known  it  all  in  his 
life  of  three  and  thirty  years  —  good  and  ill, 
poverty  and  riches,  ambitions,  hopes  and  fears, 
hardly  a  rung  in  life's  ladder  but  at  some  time 
had  supported  him.  He  was  used  to  changes, 
but  somehow  his  gorge  rose  at  his  surroundings, 
and  he  longed  desperately  to  be  on  a  level  with 
that  distant  image  of  all  good  —  Victoria. 
276 


WHITEWASH 

The  thought  of  Philippa  and  her  green  boudoir 
intruded.  He  smiled  half  in  amusement,  half 
in  scorn,  and  wondered  at  himself  for  choosing 
so  poor  a  tool.  What  was  it,  unless  remorseless 
Fate,  that  made  him  select  that  shallow,  prating 
fool?  Did  he  not  know  the  vanity  of  woman 
well  enough  by  this  time  to  comprehend  that  she 
must  be  envied  by  some  one  before  she  can  enjoy 
any  possession  —  most  of  all  a  secret  ?  He  might 
have  known  that  Philippa  would  talk  too  much, 
would  overdo  the  part  assigned  to  her,  would  trip 
and  tangle  him  in  his  own  net. 

Truly  it  was  Fate.  And  Fate  had  not  yet 
done  with  him.  He  felt  it  again,  that  terrible 
haunting  presence  of  danger.  He  shook  it  from 
him,  and  once  more  his  mind  went  back  to  Vic 
toria.  He  would  put  her  right  before  he  dis 
appeared  from  her  world  and  life. 

He  lit  the  gas,  took  out  his  pencil,  and  on 
the  back  of  an  envelope  wrote: 

"  To  ALL  WHOM  IT  MAY  CONCERN  :  The  story 
told  by  me  and  circulated  by  Miss  Ford  con 
cerning  the  private  character  of  Miss  Claudel, 

277 


WHITEWASH 

was  a  mere  fiction,  necessary  to  discredit  her 
statements  against  me. 

"  Lucius  VALDECK." 

He  read  it  over.  He  was  rather  proud  of 
his  English.  He  could  write  it  fluently  even 
if  his  accent  in  speaking  betrayed  the  foreigner. 

A  tap  at  the  door  startled  him.  Hastily  fold 
ing  the  scrap  of  paper,  he  thrust  it  in  his  pocket, 
and  went  to  the  door. 

"  Who's  there?  "   he  demanded,  sharply. 

"  Gustave.    Does  not  monsieur  desire  dinner?  " 

Valdeck  hesitated.  "  Yes,"  he  decided.  "  Bring 
me  something  here  —  anything." 

"  Bien,  monsieur." 

The  servant  knocked  at  the  adjoining  room. 

"  Does  madame  desire  dinner?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  a  woman's  voice.  "  Some 
toast  and  coffee." 

"  Bien,  madame,"  and  Gustave's  heavy  tread 
announced  his  descent  into  the  region  of  edibles. 

"  So,"   considered   Valdeck,   "  the   room   next 
door  is  occupied.    It  is  the  first  time.    The  voice 
is  educated.    Let  us  see  our  neighbor." 
278 


WHITEWASH 

He  cautiously  slipped  to  the  keyhole,  and, 
stooping,  tried  to  reconnoitre.  No  use,  the  key 
hole  was  closed  by  something,  possibly  the  key. 
At  this  time  everything  and  everybody  boded 
danger  until  otherwise  proven.  He  listened 
attentively  for  any  sound,  however  slight,  that 
might  betray  the  age,  nature,  or  occupation  of 
the  woman  next  door.  All  was  silent. 

Presently  the  waiter  returned,  knocked,  and  was 
admitted.  He  could  hear  the  soft  swish  of  a  silk 
petticoat  as  its  owner  moved  toward  the  door. 
But  there  was  no  response  to  Gustave's  voluble 
comments.  Then  the  door  closed  again,  and  the 
knocking  was  repeated,  this  time  at  his  own  room. 
He  opened  to  the  summons  and  watched  the 
officious  little  Frenchman  as  he  set  down  the  tray. 

"  Number  12  was  taken,  then,"  Valdeck  re 
marked,  "  and  who  might  the  lady  be?  " 

"  Oh,  elderly,  elderly,"  Gustave  commented,  as 
if  to  allay  any  hopes  on  the  part  of  Number  14. 
"  A  woman  at  least  of  fifty,  and  of  a  silentness, 
not  to  say  abruptness.  Would  it  be  believed, 
she  arrived  with  only  two  hand-bags,  and  ap 
peared  not  at  all  to  care  what  she  spent.  Had 

279 


it  been,  now,  the  little  sisters  of  Number  10,  one 
might  understand,  but  this  white-haired  woman  - 
and  in  mourning,  and  of  a  deepness !  —  truly  she 
wore  as  much  crepe  as  the  funeral  pomps  — 

"What's  her  name?"    inquired  Valdeck,  im 
patiently. 

"  Oh,  a  Madame  Duval.  Very  ordinary  name 
—  from  Marseilles  —  very  ordinary  place.  Would 
monsieur  have  cognac  with  his  coffee  ?  —  no  ?  — 
Would  monsieur  have  the  obligeance  to  put  the 
tray  outside  the  door  when  finished  ?  —  a  thousand 
thanks,"  and  Gustave  pounded  his  way  down 
stairs  once  more. 

Valdeck,  left  alone,  dismissed  the  thought  of 
his  neighbor,  as  he  took  a  long  drink  from  the 
now  half-emptied  bottle.  His  ears  were  ringing 
and  his  oppression  and  anxiety  lifted  a  little. 
He  ate  with  more  relish  than  he  had  expected,  and 
pushing  back  his  chair,  lighted  a  cigarette.  Gradu 
ally  the  world  receded,  the  blue  rings  of  smoke 
spread  and  hung  gently  in  the  air,  his  brain  was 
tranced  in  a  not  unpleasant  numbness.  He  was 
still  conscious  that  he  was  menaced  in  some  way, 
but  he  no  longer  clung  to  details.  Only  the  face  of 
280 


WHITEWASH 

Victoria,  haloed  in  cigarette  smoke,  looked  vividly 
down  on  him.  He  stretched  himself,  and  yawned. 
The  liquor  drowsed  through  his  veins.  He  was 
very,  very  tired,  and  glad  to  forget  his  troubles. 
He  disapproved  of  drinking,  particularly  at  crucial 
moments.  It  was  a  very  pernicious  habit  —  but 
—  after  all  —  when  one's  thoughts  were  all  disa 
greeable,  why  not  muddle  them  ? 

The  noise  had  ceased  down-stairs.  No  longer 
the  clink  of  china,  nor  the  wrangling  of  argumen 
tative  voices,  no  longer  the  cheerful  shout  of  Gus- 
tave,  or  Hortense,  down  the  dumb-waiter,  "  Deux 
btxuf  a  la  mode,  trois  haricots,  une  demi-tasse." 
He  fumbled  for  his  watch,  and  glanced  at  the  time. 
Half-past  ten.  Stumblingly  he  rose,  and  made  his 
way  to  the  window,  threw  up  the  sash,  and  gazed 
uncertainly  out.  Across  the  way  silhouettes  came 
and  went  upon  the  drawn-down  shades;  further 
on  he  saw  the  blurred  outline  of  the  lady  of  the 
amazing  lingerie.  The  stars  overhead  shone  with 
a  palpitating,  uneven  light.  But,  oh,  how  good 
was  the  fresh  night  air  upon  his  face.  He  glanced 
once  more  at  the  bed.  It  was  inviting  with  its 
red  eider-down  pillows  —  he  would  give  up  and 

281 


go  to  sleep.  He  undressed  recklessly,  throwing 
his  garments,  or  leaving  them  where  they  dropped, 
secured  his  door,  took  a  final  swig  of  whiskey, 
and  after  turning  off  the  gas,  tumbled  into  bed. 

The  night  wore  on.  The  last  patron  was  turned 
out,  the  last  bolt  fastened.  Madame  Guisard  had 
removed  all  the  pins  in  her  edifice  of  hair  and 
lace.  Gustave  had  neatly  plaited  the  napkins  for 
the  next  day's  tables,  and  Hortense,  candle  in 
hand,  had  yawned  her  way  to  her  little  attic 
cubby-hole. 

The  outer  world,  too,  had  gone  to  rest.  Only 
the  cats  now  crawled  and  fought  along  the  gutters 
and  on  the  narrow  fence-tops.  At  intervals  the 
bells  of  the  little  French  church  rang  out  the 
hour,  which  the  Skye  terrier  of  the  lady  opposite 
heralded  with  a  shrill  howl.  Even  the  distant 
buzz  of  the  elevated  was  stilled. 

Valdeck  slept  heavily.  The  stroke  of  two  still 
hung  vibrating  in  the  air.  when  the  communicating 
door  between  12  and  14  opened  slowly. 

The  light  burned  brightly  in  the  woman's  room 
and  showed  her  dark  form  sharply.  In  her  hand 
she  carried  a  ring  and  skeleton  keys.  She  paused 
282 


"THE    LIGHT    BURNED    BRIGHTLY    IN    THE    WOMAN'S    ROOM 
AND    SHOWED    HER    DARK    FORM    SHARPLY." 


WHITEWASH 

a  moment,  listening,  and  then  silently  turned  back. 
She  was  small,  thin,  and  clad  in  mourning-gar 
ments  that  accentuated  her  peculiarities.  Under 
heavy  brows  her  great  black  eyes  burned  with  a 
deep,  concentrated  radiance  that  seemed  to  eat 
into  her  face,  so  consuming  they  were.  Her  hair, 
once  as  black  as  night,  was  striped  with  white, 
one  great  strand  springing  from  her  left  temple 
contrasting  strangely  with  the  coil  at  the  back 
of  her  head.  She  moved  with  a  curious  uncer 
tainty,  as  though  her  actions  were  governed  by 
unregulated,  instantaneous  impulses. 

On  the  bureau  lay  her  opened  hand-bag,  and 
upon  the  marble  table-top,  sole  ornament  of  the 
room,  stood  a  silver  figure  of  St.  Anne.  The 
woman  advanced  to  the  statue,  knelt  with  fervent 
devotion,  crossing  herself  over  and  over,  mutter 
ing  and  questioning.  Suddenly  she  arose  and 
stood  listening,  nodding  her  head  as  if  in  acquies 
cence  to  directions  given.  A  deeper  fire  glowed 
in  her  eyes.  Catching  up  the  silver  figure,  she 
kissed  its  foot  passionately,  and  then  turned  to 
her  hand-bag.  From  it  she  took  a  cloth  and  a 
small  bottle,  smiling  wisely  all  the  while.  Stealth- 

283 


WHITEWASH 

ily  she  crept  into  the  adjoining  room,  made  her 
way  to  the  bed,  and  stood  over  the  unconscious 
sleeper. 

Valdeck  slept  on,  his  usual  acute  senses  drugged 
into  stupidity. 

She  leaned  over  him  long,  as  if  to  make  sure. 

"  Yes,"  she  murmured,  "  that  is  the  man!  He 
is  the  one  who  was  pointed  out  to  me  —  he  is  the 
one  I  have  followed,  and  the  good  St.  Anne  says 
I  am  right." 

Once  more  she  nodded  gravely,  then,  with 
swift,  mechanical  movements,  she  inundated  the 
cloth,  and  clapped  it  over  the  upturned  face.  There 
was  a  short  struggle,  a  gasp,  and  the  sleeper 
passed  into  the  blinding,  buzzing  unconsciousness 
of  chloroform. 

Deliberately  the  woman  went  about  her  work. 
She  shut  down  the  open  window  carefully,  then, 
drawing  the  blind,  she  lighted  the  gas.  Coldly, 
with  no  wavering  now,  she  closed  the  transom 
and  stuffed  the  crack  beneath  the  door  with  the 
overcoat,  pushing  its  folds  close,  that  no  air  might 
penetrate.  There  remained  only  her  own  door. 
Valdeck's  silk  handkerchief  and  muffler  were  upon 
284 


WHITEWASH 

the  table.  Taking  both,  she  laid  them  lengthwise 
about  the  wooden  door  in  such  fashion  that  in 
shutting  the  door  the  tiny  crack  would  be  sealed. 

A  moan  from  the  bed  brought  her  quickly  over. 
She  bent  above  Valdeck  for  a  moment,  lifted  the 
cloth,  and  contemplated  the  handsome  face  with 
a  look  of  inhuman  satisfaction.  Again  she  sat 
urated  the  bandage,  laying  it  back  almost  ten 
derly.  The  bottle  itself  she  put  down  upon  the 
pillow.  Raising  her  hand,  she  deliberately  turned 
out  the  gas,  and  waited  a  moment  before  turning 
it  on  in  full. 

The  room  slowly  filled  with  poisonous  vapor. 
She  stood,  till  her  brain  was  dizzy,  watching  the 
form  upon  the  bed.  At  last,  as  if  tearing  herself 
away  from  some  entrancing  spectacle,  she  turned 
to  her  own  room,  carefully  shutting  and  locking 
the  door.  The  last  avenue  of  ventilation  was 
closed. 

The  mad  countess  sat  down  to  listen  —  and 
wait. 


285 


CHAPTER    X. 

L  HILIPPA  was  humbled  in  the  dust,  meta 
phorically  speaking.  Literally  she  had  tried  to 
throw  herself  at  her  aunt's  feet  in  her  despair,  but 
Mrs.  Ford,  averse  to  theatricals  for  home  con 
sumption,  merely  remarked  that  "  in  tragedy  she 
preferred  Duse  and  Mrs.  Fiske."  This  heartless- 
ness  had  the  effect  to  precipitate  a  Niagara  of 
tears. 

Mrs.  Ford  waited  quietly  until  the  paroxysm 
passed,  to  take  up  the  thread  of  her  remarks. 

"  I  suppose  you  are  aware  that  this  disrepu 
table  affair  of  yours  has  been  kept  from  the 
papers  only  by  the  greatest  effort,  and  by  the  use 
of  money  and  influence.  That's  why  you  are  in 
this  house  instead  of  the  jail.  I'm  sure  I  don't 
know  why  I  allow  you  to  stay  here  —  I'm  by 
far  too  soft-hearted.  You  will  remember  I  told 
286 


WHITEWASH 

you  I  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  your  mis 
erable  case  if  you  saw  fit  to  disobey  me." 

Philippa  groaned  and  pressed  her  burning  palms 
to  her  aching  head.  Ever  since  she  had  been  re 
leased,  and  accompanied  to  her  home  by  Com 
missioner  Holes,  Mr.  Pendle,  and  her  aunt,  she 
had  been  in  a  state  of  frantic  despair,  which  was 
not  counterfeit. 

"  What  I  want  to  know  is  this,"  the  drum- 
major  went  on,  "  are  you  going  to  obey  me  now  ? 
I  shall  give  you  this  one  more  chance.  I  will 
take  you  in  hand  if  you  promise  implicit  obe 
dience  —  implicit !  —  you  understand !  " 

Philippa  caught  at  the  straw.  "  I  will,  I  will 
—  anything  —  everything,  I  promise !  " 

"  So  you  have  frequently  said,  but  I  have  failed 
to  note  the  absolute  fulfilment  of  your  vows. 
Now  it's  come  to  this :  either  you  let  me  run 
this  thing  without  question,  or  you  are  '  done  for  ' 
socially.  Of  course,  you  can  go  to  Europe  with 
an  elderly  chaperone.  Malta  is  a  good  place  — 
with  your  good  looks  you  ought  to  pick  up  some 
bored  baronet  with  a  bank  account." 

Philippa  sat  up  on  the  lounge  and  pushed  the 

287 


WHITEWASH 

tumbled  hair  from  her  eyes.  There  were  new 
lines  of  suffering  in  her  childish  face,  a  naive 
grace,  a  piteous  appeal,  that  had  even  softened 
the  buckrammed,  tight-buttoned  heart  of  her  aunt, 
and  drawn  from  her  this  last  offer  of  help. 

"  I  give  you  my  solemn  word  of  honor,"  she 
said,  "  I'll  obey  you  in  every  particular.  I've 
been  a  fool,  and  I  know  it.  I'm  in  an  awful  hole, 
and  if  you'll  help  me  out,  I'll  —  I'll  —  there  isn't 
anything  I  won't  do." 

"  And  if  I  lay  down  a  plan  of  action,  you'll  live 
up  to  it,  will  you  ?  " 

"  I  will,  oh,  I  will !  "  Philippa  wailed. 

"It's  understood,  then,  is  it?  Then  let  us 
go  over  the  ground." 

Mrs.  Ford  rose  and  made  a  slow  tour  of  the 
room  in  silence;  her  gaze  snapped  from  one  object 
to  another,  as  if  this  were,  in  fact,  the  ground 
she  was  going  over.  An  amused  gleam  lit  her 
cold  eyes  as  she  noted  the  familiar  sham :  the 
soulful  "  sanguines,"  the  masterpieces  of  Burne- 
Jones,  Rossetti,  and  Watts,  that  adorned  the 
walls  of  the  room,  because  its  occupant  felt 
she  ought  to  admire  them.  The  rows  of  books 
288 


WHITEWASH 

upon  the  shelves,  unappreciated  and  unread.  The 
one  true  note  was  self-adoration.  Photographs 
of  Philippa  were  scattered  broadcast  —  Philippa 
standing,  trailing  a  long-stemmed  rose  in  a  well- 
posed  hand ;  Philippa  sitting,  with  her  arms 
draped  over  a  huge,  carved  "  studio  "  chair ;  Phil 
ippa  in  evening-dress,  in  walking-dress,  in  her 
riding-habit,  with  a  bulldog,  an  open  book,  a 
bunch  of  daisies,  a  garden-hat,  and  in  four  kinds 
of  fancy  dress.  Mrs.  Ford  looked  them  over 
with  undisguised  scorn. 

"How  absolutely  vain  you  are!"  she  said, 
slowly. 

It  was  on  the  tip  of  her  listener's  tongue  to 
remark  on  "  beams  and  motes,"  but  she  gulped 
in  silence.  This  was  no  time  for  retaliation. 
Her  position  was  too  insecure. 

"  But,"  the  drum-major  resumed,  wrapping  the 
belaced  folds  of  her  dressing-gown  about  her 
ample  person,  "  as  I  said,  let  us  look  at  the  situa 
tion.  Two  things  are  paramount :  you  must  own 
yourself  mistaken  about  Victoria  —  that  will  be 
easy;  and  you  must  do  it  amply  and  fully.  In 
that  way  you  will  win  the  silence  of  old  Morris 

289 


WHITEWASH 

Courncey  and  Fanshaw  concerning  your  dinner 
episode."  Her  face  hardened  as  she  said  the 
words,  "  If  you  will  remember,  I  warned  you 
that  very  afternoon  to  let  matters  drop  between 
you  and  that  impostor.  But,  to  continue.  You 
must  release  Morton  at  once.  He  knows  too 
much  for  you  to  try  to  hold  him.  You  must  be 
repentant,  humble.  You  must  appeal  to  his  chival 
rous  nature  to  save  appearances  for  you.  I  think 
we  can  withdraw  those  wretched  letters  of  Val- 
deck's  from  publicity.  Then,  to  the  outer  world 
your  attitude  must  be  that  of  '  injured  angel.' 
Valdeck  interested  you  in  what  you  thought  a 
noble  charity.  You  wanted  to  help  —  your 
interest  in  slum-work  is  well  known "  —  Mrs. 
Ford  sniffed  as  she  referred  to  her  ward's  spas 
modic  and  fashionable  zeal  for  the  water-front 
and  the  Bowery.  "  And  now,  I  have  the  one 
great  piece  of  luck  to  tell  you  of  —  the  thing  that 
saves  you  —  the  only  thing  that  could  have  saved 
you.  Valdeck  left  a  confession  exonerating  Vic 
toria,  and  incidentally  you." 

Philippa  gasped  and  sat  up.     "  He's  escaped 


290 


WHITEWASH 

then,  has  he?  "  Involuntarily  her  face  shone  with 
relief. 

"  He  committed  suicide.  It  was  in  all  the 
papers  yesterday."  Mrs.  Ford's  back  was  turned 
toward  Philippa.  She  did  not  see  the  ghastly 
pallor  that  spread  over  the  girl's  face.  When 
she  turned,  her  charge's  head  was  buried  in  the 
pillows  of  the  sofa,  and  she  went  on  with  her 
information.  "  You  are  the  luckiest  creature  I 
ever  heard  of.  To  think  of  his  having  the  de 
cency  to  put  himself  out  of  the  way.  He  turned 
on  the  gas  after  carefully  blocking  up  all  the 
chinks  of  his  room,  and,  I  suppose  because  he 
was  afraid  his  nerve  would  fail  him,  he  chloro 
formed  himself  when  he  lay  down  to  die.  It 
seems  it  happened  in  some  cheap  little  French 
hotel  over  on  Twenty-sixth  Street,  and  it  wasn't 
found  out  till  early  next  morning,  when  the 
woman  who  had  occupied  the  adjoining  room 
left  the  house  because  she  claimed  the  smell  of 
gas  was  unendurable. 

"  After  she'd  paid  her  bill  and  gone,  the  waiter 
went  up-stairs  and  found  the  halls  positively  as- 


291 


WHITEWASH 

phyxiating.  He  located  the  fumes,  broke  in  the 
door  —  and  there  was  Valdeck  —  dead !  " 

Philippa  gasped. 

"  Dead !  "  went  on  Mrs.  Ford.  "  And  in  his 
pocket  was  found  a  slip  of  paper  on  which,  written 
in  pencil,  was  a  statement  that  his  accusations 
made  to  you  against  Victoria  were  unfounded 
and  merely  made  for  the  purpose  of  discrediting 
the  Auray  story.  It  was  really  superfluous,  for 
her  statement  has  been  fully  substantiated,  but 
I  suppose  he  grew  sentimental  over  his  impending 
death,  or  the  whiskey,  for  he  had  been  drinking 
heavily  during  the  evening;  a  bottle  nearly  three- 
quarters  empty  was  found  by  his  bed.  Now,  you 
see,  with  Valdeck  dead,  the  principal  reason  for 
pursuing  the  affair  has  been  removed.  Of  course, 
the  State  will  have  its  case  against  the  woman  for 
complicity,  but  as  she  confessed  on  hearing  of 
her  accomplice's  suicide,  and  they  are  in  a  fair 
way  to  recover  all  the  jewels  stolen  from  New 
Orleans,  there  won't  be  much  of  an  examination. 
Your  appearance  will  be  quite  nominal  —  and 
those  letters  once  returned,  there  is  plenty  of 
proof  forthcoming  that  you  were  merely  a  tool." 
292 


WHITEWASH 

Philippa  winced  in  spite  of  her  prostration. 
Then  there  flashed  through  her  throbbing  brain 
another  thought.  His  last  care  had  been  to  exon 
erate  Victoria  —  no  thought  of  her.  But  perhaps 
he  did  not  wish  to  drag  her  name  with  his  to  a 
dishonored  grave.  In  a  tumult  of  sensations,  she 
wavered  back  and  forth,  now  filled  with  hatred 
of  Valdeck  and  his  deceptions,  now  crushed  and 
broken-hearted  over  his  death.  Her  will  was  in 
abeyance,  and  her  many-sided  mind,  uncontrolled, 
followed  with  exaggerated  vision  the  myriad  sug 
gestions  that  in  normal  conditions  float  half- 
formed  in  the  consciousness.  She  was  only 
vaguely  aware  of  the  drone  of  her  aunt's  voice, 
as  she  continued  to  pour  wisdom  upon  the  un 
heeding  air. 

The  maid  entered  presently,  with  a  note  for 
Philippa.  Aroused  and  brought  back  to  vivid  con 
sciousness,  she  glanced  at  the  address  in  Morton's 
clean-cut,  characteristic  hand. 

It  was  a  request,  couched  in  formal  terms,  for 
an  interview  some  time  during  the  day. 

Dismissing  the  maid  with  a  nod,  she  handed 
the  missive  to  her  aunt,  who  glanced  over  it. 

293 


WHITEWASH 

"  Well,"  she  demanded,  "  when  will  you  see 
him?" 

Philippa  looked  up  wearily.  "  Don't  you  think 
you  could  manage  this  better?"  she  suggested. 
"  Tell  him  I'm  too  ill  to  see  him.  You  can  say 
I'm  so  heart-broken  over  the  unintentional  wrong 
I  did  Victoria,  you  know." 

The  drum-major  nodded.  "  I  think  so,"  she 
mused,  "  I  think  so.  You  had  better  stay  in 
bed  for  the  next  few  days,  then  we'll  admit  a 
few  of  your  friends,  and  you  can  tell  them  that 
you  must  set  Victoria  right,  that  it's  the  only 
thing  you  are  living  for  —  that  you  are  really  too 
miserable  to  see  any  one,  but  you  must  undo  the 
wrong  you  have  done.  Then,  of  course,  I  will 
deplore  your  trustfulness,  and  declaim  against 
the  creature's  infamous  use  of  your  charitable 
nature."  The  drum-major  positively  smiled.  The 
old  war-horse  of  social  diplomacy  cried  ha!  ha! 
afar  off,  scenting  battle.  With  a  sweep  of  the 
ornate  dressing-gown,  the  lady  settled  herself 
before  Philippa's  spindle-legged  writing-desk,  and 
drew  out  a  sheet  of  becrested  note-paper.  The 
arms,  crest,  and  motto  "  Fidelitas  "  were  simply 
294 


WHITEWASH 

embossed  in  the  heavy,  white  paper,  and  also 
adorned  the  flap  of  the  envelope.  From  the  recess 
where  the  creamy  piles  lay  spread,  arose  a  faint 
perfume  of  violets. 

With  strong,  scratching  gestures,  Mrs.  Ford 
penned  her  little  note : 

"  MR.  MORTON  CONWAY, 
"  UNIVERSITY  CLUB. 

"  MY  DEAR  MR.  CONWAY  :  —  Philippa  is,  I 
fear,  very  ill.  The  doctors  tell  me  that  unless 
she  gets  some  rest  she  may  develop  brain-fever. 
It  is,  therefore,  impossible  for  her  to  answer  your 
note  or  receive  you  in  person.  For  the  present 
I  must  be  her  proxy.  If  you  will  call  at  once, 
I  should  be  pleased  to  tell  you  the  particulars  of 
her  condition  and  her  wishes  for  the  future." 

She  signed  with  a  decided  upward  tilt,  and 
added  the  date  and  address  —  reread  the  epistle 
first  to  herself,  then  to  Philippa,  and  rang  for  the 
maid.  "  And  now,  my  dear,"  she  added,  rising 
and  standing  before  the  dressing-table,  "  I  must 
dress  to  see  him." 

295 


WHITEWASH 

She  contemplated  her  florid  reflection  with 
dignified  satisfaction,  picked  up  the  artless  Phi- 
lippa's  powder-puff,  and  discreetly  subdued  the 
violet-veined  tone  of  her  large,  well-modelled 
Roman  nose.  She  gently  rubbed  a  tinge  of  mas- 
caro  upon  her  already  heavy  brows,  and  with  a 
moistened  finger  removed  the  particles  of  powder 
from  about  her  blue,  incisive  eyes,  turning  her 
head  from  side  to  side  in  contemplation  of  the 
"  undulations "  of  the  elaborate  coiffure  now 
protected  by  a  net  to  retain  its  precision  till  the 
dowager  should  sally  forth  to  an  admiring  public. 

Philippa  watched  her  aunt  with  disguised  dis 
gust.  "  Great,  ugly  thing !  She  thinks  she's  a 
beauty,"  she  commented,  inwardly,  for  Philippa 
loathed  vanity  in  others.  She  turned  her  head, 
gasped  with  the  pain  the  movement  caused  her 
aching  eyeballs,  arose,  and  walked  gingerly  to  the 
violet-hung  bed. 

"  I'm  going  to  lie  down,"  she  said.  "  I  do 
feel  so  ill  —  tell  Marie  to  come  to  me.  I  want  my 
lavender-water,  and  the  shades  pulled  down.  I 
wonder  if  I  shall  die!  " 

"  You've  got  a  nervous  headache  —  you  won't 
296 


WHITEWASH 

die,"  said  Mrs.  Ford,  scornfully.  "Well,  I'll 
leave  you  to  your  favorite  contemplation  of  your 
self  —  much  joy  may  you  get  out  of  it  this  time!  " 
With  her  silken  gown  flying  about  her  like 
waving  banners,  the  drum-major  marched  to  the 
door,  which  she  closed  with  a  bang  that  made 
Philippa  start  with  pain,  and  proceeded  down  the 
hallway  to  her  own  apartments.  In  its  seclusion 
she  was  pushed  and  packed  into  her  precise  tailor 
costume,  the  net  removed  from  her  hair,  her  fin 
ger-nails  duly  polished,  and  her  fingers  loaded 
with  a  choice  assortment  of  rings.  Then,  with 
a  last  glance  at  her  image  in  the  pier-glass,  she 
descended  to  the  drawing-room  to  await  the  com 
ing  of  her  ex-nephew-to-be.  She  moved  about, 
busily  readjusting  Sevres,  Dresden  figures,  and 
Dutch-silver  toys.  She  rearranged  her  collection 
of  miniatures  in  the  glass-topped  show-table,  and 
wound  up  the  gilt  and  enamel  clock  on  the  mantel 
shelf.  Mrs.  Ford  was  always  busy  with  some 
superfluity  when  she  was  not  engaged  in  her 
favorite  pursuit  of  advancing  her  social  impor 
tance. 


297 


WHITEWASH 

The  butler  passed  through  from  the  dining- 
room  to  answer  the  electric  ring  of  the  door-bell. 

"  If  that  is  Mr.  Conway,  Charles,"  she  said, 
"  show  him  in  here,  and  remember  I  am  at  home 
to  no  one  else  for  the  present." 

The  butler  bowed,  and  went  on. 

A  moment  later  Morton  was  introduced  into  the 
discreet  twilight  of  the  drawing-room  and  the 
presence  of  Mrs.  Ford,  whose  face  had  suddenly 
become  clouded  and  grave.  She  held  out  her  hand 
frankly,  but  forbore  to  smile. 

"  First,  let  me  tell  you,  that  we  hope  Philippa 
may  escape  the  consequences  of  her  collapse.  She 
has  at  last  fallen  asleep,  under  the  influence  of 
opiates,  it  is  true." 

Morton  nodded.  "  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  he 
said,  coldly. 

"  She  is  in  a  very  desperate  state  of  mind,"  the 
aunt  went  on.  "  She  raves  about  the  wrong  she 
has  unwittingly  done  Victoria,  and  fairly  implores 
and  begs  to  have  her  friends  admitted  that  she 
may  tell  them  of  her  fearful  mistake.  I  really 
did  not  suspect  Philippa  of  so  much  conscience. 


298 


WHITEWASH 

She  is  frantic  now  that  she  realizes  that  she  was 
so  completely  misled." 

Morton's  face  relaxed  a  trifle. 

"  The  whole  thing  has  been  a  frightful  shock  to 
her.  She  put  absolute  confidence  in  Valdeck,  and 
he  was  clever  enough  to  convince  her  he  was  ter 
ribly  in  love  with  her.  Of  course,  she  was  a  fool 
to  listen  to  him,  or  permit  him  to  speak  at  all, 
but  she  was  flattered,  as,  indeed,  what  girl  would 
not  be?  She  told  me  from  time  to  time  of  his 
unfortunate  passion  for  her,  and  deplored  it.  She 
hoped  by  assisting  him  in  what  she  thought  was 
a  charitable  enterprise,  she  would  be  helping  him 
to  a  readier  acceptance  of  his  hopeless  position 
—  aiding  him  to  fix  his  mind,  as  it  were,  on  a 
laudable  aim  and  end  of  life.  What  that  aim  was, 
we  all  know." 

Morton  bowed. 

"  He  enjoined  her  to  absolute  secrecy  when  he 
entrusted  her  with  the  treasure  he  could  no  longer 
safely  keep  himself,  and  allayed  all  her  question 
ings  by  this  story  of  a  watch  being  kept  upon  his 
movements.  If  you  could  see  how  broken  and 


299 


WHITEWASH 

distressed  she  is,  you  would,  I  am  sure,  forgive 
her." 

Morton  smiled  grimly.  He  was  not  to  be 
taken  in  with  the  half-truth  now.  But  the  picture 
of  the  distressed  Philippa  brought  up  affectionate 
images.  He  remembered  her  innocent  eyes,  her 
trick  of  blushing,  her  childlike  manner  —  and  his 
anger  slipped  away  from  him.  He  knew  her 
for  what  she  was,  yet  felt  sorry  for  her  in  her 
trouble. 

"  Of  course,  Mrs.  Ford,"  he  said,  directly  and 
simply,  "  there  can  be  no  question  of  an  engage 
ment  between  us  now.  That  was  the  matter  I 
most  particularly  wished  to  set  before  you.  As 
it  was  never  made  public,  there  will  be  no  com 
ment.  But  this  matter  of  Valdeck  has  awakened 
me  from  my  dream,  and  I  must,  in  duty  to  my 
self  and  to  Philippa,  relieve  her  -  '  He  broke  off, 
hesitating. 

Mrs.  Ford  nodded.  "  I  quite  understand, 
though  in  the  matter  of  that  unfortunate  dinner, 
I  believe  her  quite  innocent,  except  for  following 
a  foolish  girl's  impulse.  He  induced  her  to  go 
there,  that  he  might,  so  rie  said,  in  perfect  se- 
300 


WHITEWASH 

curity,  tell  her  certain  secrets  concerning  this 
'  Polish  Educational  League.'  I  fancy  he  wished 
her  to  be  compromised  by  appearances,  that  he 
might  obtain  a  hold  over  her  in  case  she  should 
discover  the  real  nature  of  the  '  society.'  As  to 
Gagano's,  of  course  Philippa  had  never  even  heard 
of  the  place,  and  hadn't  the  remotest  notion 
of  its  reputation.  She  trusted  to  Valdeck  not 
to  take  her  to  any  objectionable  resort.  I  am 
greatly  incensed  against  her  myself,  Mr.  Conway, 
for  this,  but  I  try  to  do  the  girl  justice." 

Morton  bethought  him  of  sundry  allusions  of 
Philippa's,  and  doubted  her  complete  ignorance 
of  the  name  and  nature  of  the  infamous  little 
restaurant,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"  For  the  sake  of  old  times,"  Mrs.  Ford  went 
bravely  on,  "  I  want  you  to  help  me  save  the 
child's  reputation.  Do  what  you  can  to  prevent 
this  miserable  story  from  getting  into  circulation. 
People  who  do  not  know  Philippa's  character 
as  we  do,  might  misjudge  her  in  the  matter  of 
the  dinner  if  it  should  become  known.  I  hope  we 
may  be  able  to  prevent  the  letters  she  gave  in 
evidence  from  being  made  public.  She  has,  I  find, 

301 


WHITEWASH 

other  notes  written  to  her  before  he  made  his 
dastardly  profession  of  love  for  her,  which  show 
identically  the  same  thing  —  his  use  of  his  vic 
tim's  interest  in  charity  to  induce  her  to  assist 
him.  We  will  substitute  these  earlier  letters,  which 
cover  the  same  ground,  for  the  later  ones  she 
so  unwisely  permitted  to  be  read.  It  was  her 
very  innocence  that  made  her  careless.  She  never 
dreamed  that  any  one  would  imagine  that  she  re 
turned  his  devotion." 

Morton  smiled  inwardly.  The  farce  of  it  be 
gan  to  appeal  to  him.  But  after  all,  why  not 
protect  Philippa  ?  She  was  a  woman  —  and  he 
had  loved  her  once  —  how  long  ago,  and  absurd 
it  seemed. 

"  Of  course,"  he  said,  "  nothing  shall  become 
known  through  me,  and  my  uncle,  Mr.  Courncey, 
assured  me  that  if  Victoria  were  fully  cleared, 
nothing  should  be  learned  from  him  or  Mr.  Fan- 
shaw.  If  the  substitution  of  the  letters  can  be 
made,  I  see  no  reason  why  anything  but  sympathy 
should  be  attached  to  your  niece." 

Mrs.  Ford  drew  a  long  breath.  She  was  ac 
complishing  her  work  most  skilfully.  Never 
302 


WHITEWASH 

again  would  there  be  such  a  perfectly  successful 
coat  of  whitewash. 

"  And  Victoria  Qaudel  ?  "  she  asked,  tenta 
tively.  "  She  has  been  the  injured  party,  you 
know  —  and  women  are  so  hard  upon  each 
other."  This  last  remark  completed  the  irony  of 
the  situation. 

Morton  smiled.  "  Victoria  never  harmed  a  fly 
in  all  her  life.  She's  too  much  of  a  man  to  strike 
a  fallen  enemy,  and,  besides,  once  her  own  charac 
ter  is  cleared,  she'll  never  think  about  the  matter 
again  —  she  has  too  many  things  of  more  im 
portance  to  employ  her  mind,  —  she's  too  busy." 

The  lady  looked  incredulous.  "  I  hardly 
think,"  she  said,  sententiously,  "  that  you  under 
stand  women,  Mr.  Conway." 

Morton  rose.  "  I  don't  pretend  to,  Mrs.  Ford, 
I  assure  you.  But  Victoria  is  particularly  a  tom 
boy,  and  I  think  I  can  answer  for  her  mental  pro 
gressions.  I  assure  you  that  you  will  really  be 
quite  annoyed  by  the  very  little  importance  she'll 
attach  to  it  all,  once  the  clouds  have  blown  over. 
I  think  we  quite  understand  each  other  now,  Mrs. 
Ford.  I  thank  you  for  receiving  me,  and  the 

303 


WHITEWASH 

way  you  have  permitted  me  to  explain  my  very 
unpleasant  and  delicate  mission." 

The  drum-major  rose  with  stately  and  studied 
grace.  "  I  am  sure,  Mr.  Conway,  my  niece  ought 
to  be  very  grateful  to  you  for  your  assurances 
of  good-will.  Of  course,  she  knows  nothing  of 
my  intervention  on  her  behalf.  She  is  too  ill  to 
have  painful  subjects  broached  at  all.  And  I 
promise  you  in  her  name  and  my  own,  that  Miss 
Claudel  shall  have  thorough  and  complete  vin 
dication." 

They  shook  hands  warmly.  Mrs.  Ford  very 
much  as  if  she  were  conferring  a  cross  of  honor 
upon  a  valorous  warrior.  Morton,  with  an 
amused  delight  at  the  comedy.  He  bowed  him 
self  out,  and  in  the  hall  passed  Ethel  Tracy,  who 
nodded  sweetly  and  inquired  with  an  air  of  arch 
knowledge  for  the  latest  news  of  Philippa.  Mor 
ton's  amusement  deepened  as  he  foresaw  the  scene 
to  follow  between  the  artless  curiosity  of  the  girl 
and  the  wily  generalship  of  the  drum-major. 

"  You  had  better  see  Mrs.  Ford,  she  will  tell 
you  all  the  particulars,  Miss  Tracy,"  he  said. 


304 


WHITEWASH 

"  She  is  in  the  drawing-room  —  go  right  in.  I 
know  she  will  wish  to  see  you." 

"  Is  that  you,  Ethel,  dear?  "  Mrs.  Ford's  voice 
sounded  mellow  through  the  portieres.  "  Come 
in;  poor  Philippa  is  very  ill  to-day,  but  I  fancy 
she  will  insist  on  seeing  you." 

The  slim  figure  of  the  girl  disappeared  between 
the  curtains,  and  Morton  heard  the  hostess's 
resounding  kiss,  as  she  drew  the  fly  into  her 
parlor,  and  began  diligently  spinning  the  web  of 
poor  Philippa's  innocent  heart-break  about  her 
willing  listener. 


305 


CHAPTER    XL 

V^/NE  stormy  February  afternoon,  some  two 
months  later,  the  wet  snow  smothered  the  air 
and  lay,  sodden  and  gray,  on  the  steaming  streets. 
Early  twilight  lurked  in  the  sky,  and  the  street- 
lamps,  giving  out  a  dim,  yellow  haze,  made  the 
half-lights  more  confusing. 

In  Mrs.  Durham's  rooms  the  lamps  were  not 
yet  lighted.  In  the  dusk  the  four  occupants  of  easy 
chairs  luxuriated  in  comfortable  companionship. 
Three  cigarette-lights  punctuated  the  mysterious 
penumbra  —  Morton's,  Victoria's,  and  Sonia 
Palintzka,  Countess  Krempelkin's.  Mrs.  Dur 
ham  did  not  indulge ;  instead  she  chewed  her  cork- 
tipped  penholder. 

"  Must  you  go  to  Washington  on  Wednes 
day,  Sonia?"  inquired  Victoria,  beseechingly. 
"  You've  only  been  here  a  week." 

"  I'm  afraid  so,"  the  countess  answered,  smil- 
306 


ing.  "  You  see,  since  my  older  sister  married, 
there's  no  one  to  do  the  honors,  and  that  sort  of 
thing.  If  it  weren't  for  that,  I  should  still  be 
in  Paris,  or  next  door  to  your  studio.  But  there 
is  not  a  female  soul  at  the  embassy,  and  my  father 
is  becoming  restive." 

"  Oh,  dear !  "  said  Victoria. 

"  Now  suppose,"  Sonia  continued,  "  you  and 
Mrs.  Durham  pack  your  boxes  and  come  with  me 
for  a  month  or  two,  or  three  —  what  do  you  say, 
old  lady?" 

The  old  lady  ceased  chewing  the  penholder. 
"  Well,  if  Victoria  will  pull  out  for  a  week  or 
so,  I  will  —  but  I  haven't  any  clothes  to  speak 
of  —  " 

"  Don't  speak  of  them,  then." 

"  You're  doing  me  out  of  my  pet  lounging- 
place,"  Morton  growled.  "  What  am  /  to  do  for 
my  woman's  club  ?  " 

'  You  might  come,  too.  Aren't  you  jealous  ? 
Aren't  you  afraid  to  let  Victoria  be  seen  among 
all  our  good-looking,  uniformed  Russians  ?  "  de 
manded  Sonia,  as  one  with  a  grievance. 

"  No,"  broke  in  Mrs.  Durham,  with  annoyance 

307 


WHITEWASH 

in  her  tone;  "he  isn't  —  he  isn't  jealous  at  all. 
Did  you  ever  see  two  people  so  beautifully  suited, 
who  simply  don't  want  to  get  married?  They 
wont  fall  in  love  —  it's  disgusting !  " 

"I  rather  like  it  myself,"  said  Victoria;  "it 
saves  such  lots  of  bother.  Now,  it  will  all  ar 
range  itself  quite  simply.  Mort,  there,  will  marry 
some  fool  or  other  who  will  hate  me,  and  forbid 
him  to  drop  in  except  on  '  Thursdays  from  four 
till  six,'  and  he'll  dote  on  her  and  accept  the 
situation.  Then,  I'll  probably  marry  somebody 
who  will  beat  me,  and  I  shall  like  it,  and  it  will 
make  Morty  so  mad  he  won't  be  able  to  come 
around  any  more.  Then  we'll  each  think  how 
nice  the  other  one  was  all  our  lives." 

"  I  can't  marry  a  boy,"  Morton  protested. 
"And  if  any  one  tried  to  beat  Victoria,  it  wouldn't 
be  Victoria  who  would  go  to  the  hospital.  The 
fact  of  the  matter  is,  the  only  thing  for  her  is 
a  nice,  slender,  yellow,  fuzzy-haired  pet  from 
Madame  Despard's  kennels.  She  could  ruffle  it 
and  love  it,  and  go  right  on  her  rejoiceful  way 
without  worrying  it  or  herself  or  any  one  else." 

"  Oh,  don't !  "  exclaimed  Sonia.  "  I  can  fairly 
308 


WHITEWASH 

see  myself  kicking  the  thing  out  of  the  way  when 
ever  I  should  come  into  the  room." 

"  Why  worry  about  the  inevitable,"  murmured 
Victoria,  as  she  lit  another  cigarette  and  flung 
the  finished  one  dexterously  on  the  hearth.  "  I 
never  cared  sentimentally,  that  is,  but  once.  He 
was  a  nice  fellow,  and  rather  clever;  but  he 
didn't  think  I  liked  him  and  was  too  proud  to 
inquire,  and  I  —  well,  I  was  too  proud  to  inform 
him  —  so  —  well  —  that's  all  —  " 

"Who  was  it?"  demanded  Mrs.  Durham, 
bristling  with  curiosity.  "  And  you,  Victoria ! 
I  should  have  expected  you  to  come  right  out 
and  speak  your  mind." 

"  So  should  I,"  said  Victoria;  "but  somehow 
I  wouldn't  work  that  way  —  there,  must  have 
been  something  wrong  with  the  machinery." 

"  I  think  he  was  an  idiot !  "  exclaimed  Sonia. 

"  I  think  so  too,"  said  Victoria. 

"  Here  is  one  of  the  incongruities  of  life,"  Mor 
ton  observed,  regretfully.  "  Three  stunning 
women  gathered  together,  and  not  a  romance 
among  them." 


309 


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"  But  I've  just  finished  one,"  Mrs.  Durham 
murmured,  modestly. 

"Oh,"  said  Victoria,  "it's  finished,  is  it? 
You've  been  working  like  a  beaver  on  that  book. 
What  is  the  title  to  be?  " 

Mrs.  Durham  bit  her  pen,  and  an  expression 
only  to  be  classed  as  "  grin  "  came  over  her 
face  —  the  grin  of  a  bad,  small  child  —  but  the 
expression  was  lost  in  the  dusk. 

"  It's  to  be  called  '  Whitewash,'  "  she  drawled. 

"  You're  not !  "  exclaimed  Victoria. 

"  Yes,  I  am,"  said  Mrs.  Durham,  "  and  you're 
all  in  it  —  every  one." 

"  I  call  that  a  mean  advantage  to  take  of  one's 
friends.  And  who,  pray,  is  the  heroine?  " 

"  I  shall  leave  that  to  the  discriminating  public. 
But  I  can  assure  you  the  portraiture  is  faithful, 
and  I've  written  the  story  verbatim.  I  haven't 
added  a  thing  —  in  fact,  I've  left  out  some." 

"  Thank  heavens !  "  sighed  Morton.  "  What 
have  you  cut  out?  " 

"  Well,  Madame  Chateau-Lamion's  final  per 
formance.  It  was  so  spectacular  that  the  modern 


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novel  couldn't  stand  for  it  unless  I  set  the  whole 
story  back  a  few  hundred  years." 

"  But,"  objected  Sonia,  "  from  our  Russian 
standpoint  there's  nothing  so  remarkable  in  that. 
It  was  a  well-executed  vengeance.  The  lady  goes 
to  the  prison  to  identify  the  former  maid  —  which 
she  does,  and  promptly  shoots  the  woman.  Then 
foolish  doctors  declare  the  lady  insane,  and  lock 
her  up.  /  think  she  showed  determination  and 
good  sense.  She  knew  that  the  court,  at  best, 
would  only  condemn  the  creature  as  an  accessory. 
The  countess  wanted  blood  for  blood,  and,  be 
sides,  she  believed  she  was  fulfilling  a  Christian 
obligation — which  she  probably  was.  That  whole 
episode  appears  to  me  far  more  plausible  than 
the  usual  run  of  facts." 

"  It's  picturesque  enough,  of  course,"  said  Vic 
toria,  "  but  you  know  it's  melodrama,  pure  and 
simple,  and  the  Muse  doesn't  want  to  be  classed 
by  the  unthinking  as  rantish.  What  would 
Madame  Despard's  souls  say  to  such  goriness 
and  undue  display  of  the  untender  passion  ?  " 

"  How  do  you  end  it,  then?  "  asked  Sonia. 

"  If  you  will  light  a  lamp,  or  turn  on  a  light, 


WHITEWASH 

I'll  read  you  the  last  few  pages,  provided,  Morty, 
that  you  go  away.  I  haven't  the  face  to  speak 
out  before  you.  I  can't  help  feeling  I've  taken  an 
unfair  advantage  —  particularly  of  your  affairs. 
I  feel  guilty  —  but,  with  Victoria,  I  will  just 
brazen  it  out." 

Mrs.  Durham  arose,  fumbled  in  her  escritoire, 
and  returned  with  several  closely  written  sheets. 
She  settled  herself  cosily  beside  her  lamp,  and 
waved  a  good-by  to  Morton,  who  departed  re 
luctantly  and  under  strong  compulsion. 

"  This  is  the  first  half  of  the  last  chapter,"  she 
began : 

"  The  babel  of  voices  had  reached  a  climax, 
the  flower  and  palm-embowered  rooms  were 
jammed  to  suffocation  with  monkeys,  parrots, 
and  peacocks  —  your  pardon,  I  mean  well- 
dressed  men,  charming  debutantes,  and  glitter 
ing  matrons. -- Tea,  consisting  of  every  variety 
of  drinkable  liquid,  was  being  served  by  despair 
ing  waiters,  struggling  to  fray  a  passage  between 
velvet  trains  and  lace  flounces. 

"  A  lady  in  black  and  sables,  standing  near 
the  mantelpiece,  looked  on  with  interest.  Beside 
312 


WHITEWASH 

her  lounged  an  elderly  gentleman  in  immaculate 
frock  coat  and  waistcoat,  regarding  the  crowd 
through  a  pince-nez  that  gave  him  an  aristocratic 
hauteur  of  expression,  for  it  refused  to  stay  on 
if  he  lowered  the  angle  of  his  head.  The  lady  was 
no  other  than  the  Marchioness  of  Kilgare,  for 
merly  Fanny  Colcourt  of  New  York,  returned 
now  for  the  first  time  in  many  years. 

"  '  That  girl  by  the  punch-bowl/  explained  Mr. 
Belgrave  Gerome  (the  former  fiance  and  present 
Virgil  of  the  coroneted  Fanny),  'that  girl  is 
Bella  Claxmore,  Belle  Carter's  daughter,  —  you 
remember  her,  don't  you?  The  tall  woman  in 
chinchilla  and  gray  is  Mortmeer  Dent's  second 
wife/ 

" '  Really,'  exclaimed  Lady  Kilgare,  as  she 
elevated  her  lorgnette  with  a  well-bred  insolence. 
'  How  could  Mortmeer  marry  such  a  frump  after 
suffering  the  loss  of  that  sweet  bit  of  Dresden  — 
Molly!' 

"  '  A  million  or  so,'  said  Gerome. 

'  Ah,  I  see  —  trade,  of  course.  Forgive  me, 
I  was  in  London  for  the  moment.  What  was 
it  ?  Cutlery,  cookstoves,  or  calico  ?  ' 

313 


WHITEWASH 

" '  Patent    medicine,    I    believe.      She    was    a 
Bently,  of  "  Bently's  Best  Bilious  Bitters."  ' 
"  '  Ah,  I  see.    Poor  Mortmeer ! ' 

'  That  lean  young  man  is  Toppy  Van 
Deuxer,  2d.  Toppy,  ist,  married  Clara  Taguerra 
—  you  must  recall  her.  She  was  that  immensely 
rich  Cuban  planter's  daughter  that  the  Holders 
chaperoned  and  married  off.  I  heard  that  they 
received  a  very  nice  per  cent,  on  the  "  dot." 

'  I  remember  her/  the  marchioness  nodded. 
'  She  was  a  charmingly  pretty  thing.  Wrho  is 
the  personage  in  green?  I  seem  to  recognize 
her.' 

"  '  That's  Mrs.  Trevy-Portman.' 

'  Good  heavens !  I  must  dissemble.  I  knew 
her  ever  so  slightly  as  Patty  Winston,  and  now 
she  is  chasing  me  every  day  —  title,  I  suppose  — 
leaves  cards  and  flowers.  I  hope  she  won't  see 
me,  —  now  my  back  is  toward  her.  Dear  me, 
what  a  pretty  girl ! '  This  last  remark  was  caused 
by  the  entrance  of  Philippa,  ravishingly  gowned 
and  more  charming  than  ever;  with  her  loomed 
Mrs.  Ford,  gorgeous  in  cadet  blue  and  astrachan. 

'  That/  said  the  guide,  as  he  acknowledged 

314 


WHITEWASH 

Philippa's  bow,  '  is  Miss  Ford  and  her  aunt.  The 
old  lady  is  a  pusher  and  a  scrouger,  but  the  girl 
is  really  a  very  delightful  young  person,  a  refresh 
ing  change  from  the  average.  She  is  not  over 
vain,  she's  good-hearted,  she's  well-read,  and  has 
excellent  taste,  also  can  talk  intelligently  —  quite 
a  rara  avis.' 

"'Really?  She  seems  very  popular;  people 
are  fairly  falling  over  one  another  to  speak  with 
her.' 

"  '  She  is  just  home  from  Paris,  you  see;  been 
away  three  months  —  it's  quite  a  story;  do  you 
want  to  hear  it  ?  ' 

"  '  Yes,  —  that's  a  nice  frock.' 

'  Well,  some  little  time  ago,  a  foreigner  came 
here,  named  Valdeck.  He  had  managed  some 
how  to  obtain  letters  from  the  New  Orleans 
Pointues  - 

"  '  The  Chateau-Lamion  affair  —  oh,  yes,  — 
is  that  the  Miss  Ford?  Heavens!  yes,  it  was  a 
nine  days'  wonder  even  in  London,  —  quite  sen 
sational.  Dear  me  — 

'  Well,  you  know  poor  Philippa  was  taken 
in  by  the  charitable  side  of  her  nature.  Inci- 

315 


WHITEWASH 

dentally  Valdeck  told  I  don't  know  what  ridic 
ulous  scandal  about  Victoria  Claudel,  who,  you 
know,  happened  to  recognize  him  for  what  he 
was  —  a  burglar.  He  wanted  to  gain  time,  and 
in  this  ingenious  way  made  a  most  excellent  spy 
of  the  innocent  Philippa.  Of  course  you  know 
the  extraordinary  denouement  —  Valdeck's  sui 
cide,  the  murder  of  the  maid  and  Madame  La- 
mion's  final  incarceration  "  a  Charenton." 

"  '  When  Philippa  found  out  the  real  state  of 
affairs,  she  was  wild  that  she  should  have  helped 
to  hurt  her  friend's  character,  for,  girl-like,  she 
had  talked,  and  the  whole  set  was  quite  agog  over 
it.  She  made  the  fullest  possible  reparation ; 
insisted  on  seeing  the  people  to  whom  she  had 
repeated  the  slander,  and  was  most  contrite  and 
humble.  But  Victoria  Claudel  never  would  for 
give  her,  and  Morton  Conway,  whom  we  all 
thought  engaged  to  Philippa,  has  quite  dropped 
away.  People  say  Victoria  took  him  deliberately 
—  they  are  inseparable  now.' 

"  '  So  that's  the  Miss  Ford,'  said  the  marchion 
ess  again.  '  I  don't  wonder  that  they  make  such 


WHITEWASH 

a  buzz  over  her.  It  seems  odd  what  you  tell 
me  of  Miss  Claudel.  I  never  knew  her  to  bear 
malice.  And  as  to  Mr.  Conway,  they  have  always 
been  friends.  She  used  to  show  me  his  letters 
when  we  were  in  Paris.' 

"'You  know  her,  then?' 

"  '  Naturally.  She  is  the  Countess  Palintzka's 
most  intimate  friend.' 

"  '  Ah ! '  said  Gerome,  with  a  slightly  defer 
ential  tone. 

"  His  companion  looked  up  amused.  '  And 
why  not,  pray?  She's  the  best  born  American 
I  know.  She  could  use  her  arms  by  real  right 
if  she  chose,  and  show  quartering^  enough  to 
make  her  a  chanoinesse;  but  she  doesn't  think 
of  anything  but  her  work.' 

'"Her  work?' 

"  '  Dear  me,  yes.  You've  heard  of  Camille 
Descartes,  haven't  you?  Of  course.  Well,  you 
don't  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  didn't  know  that 
was  her  nom  de  plume!  She  writes  in  French, 
you  know.  But  this  Miss  Ford  —  I  can't  imagine 
her  anything  but  a  beautiful  injured  angel.  Look 


317 


WHITEWASH 

at  those  violet  eyes  of  hers !  But  then,  of  course, 
Victoria  must  have  been  exasperated.' 

"  '  I  can  assure  you  Victoria  is  very  generally 
blamed,'  said  Gerome.  '  Miss  Ford  was  very  ill 
immediately  after  the  affair,  and  every  one  says 
it  was  brain  fever,  brought  on  by  Miss  Claudel's 
refusal  to  see  her.  She  left  for  Europe  quite 
broken  in  health,  and  this  is  her  first  appearance 
since  her  return.  Town  Topics  had  it  last  week 
that  her  engagement  was  rumored  to  young  Lord 
Pelham  —  ' 

"  '  Dopey  Pelham ! '  exclaimed  Lady  Kilgare, 
'  impossible !  He  is  a  little,  bald-headed,  dried-up 
rat  of  a  man,  with  a  stutter,  you  know,  and  the 
worst  manners.  To  be  sure  he  has  the  title  and 
a  sweetly  pretty  country  house  with  no  end  of 
gee-gees,  and  the  old  place  in  Devonshire,  but 
he's  —  dear  me  —  quite  the  simpleton ! 

" '  Has  that  Trevey-Portman  woman  gone? 
Am  I  safe  if  I  turn  my  face  toward  the  table? 
Yes?  Ah,  that's  better.  Why,  there's  Celia  van 
Cordlier  —  I  must  speak  with  her ! '  and  with 
that  she  dismissed  Miss  Ford  and  her  affairs  from 
her  aristocratic  mind." 


WHITEWASH 

A  silence  as  Mrs.  Durham  ceased  reading. 

"  You  don't  approve  ?  "  she  asked,  with  raised 
eyebrows. 

"No,"  said  Victoria,  "I  don't!  The  whole 
thing  is  horridly  personal." 

"  But  I've  changed  all  the  names,"  pleaded  the 
authoress.  "  I  read  them  to  you  with  the  real 
ones  just  for  a  lark." 

"  As  if  everybody  couldn't  place  the  thing!  " 

"  But  I've  made  you  very  nice,  Victoria." 

"  And  how  have  you  treated  me?  "  demanded 
Sonia. 

"  Excellently,  —  I've  only  been  truthful." 

"  Thank  goodness  for  that,"  Victoria  groaned. 
"  You  have  saved  us  and  punished  yourself. 
Your  reputation  as  a  realist  will  be  ruined,  and 
we  shall  escape.  I  breathe  again  —  and  so  would 
Philippa,  if  she  knew.  Her  beautiful  coat  of 
immaculate  whitewash  will  remain  '  unspotted  ' 
—  by  the  world." 

"  I  disapprove  of  slang  and  puns,  but  in  this 
instance  we'll  let  it  pass,"  said  Mrs.  Durham. 

THE   END. 


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